THE ALPHA A Speed Racer Prologue
by GoldAngel2
Summary: Speed was one of my childhood favorites so here's my take on how he met Trixie and she became part of the Go Teamthanks to Oriana & Jen for the encouragement
1. Part 1 FIRST CONTACT

Author's Note: Speed Racer was one of my first favorite animes from my childhood, along with Marine Boy and 8th Man. My lifelong fascination with cars began with watching Speed, Trixie, Racer X and the gang everyday after school. I wrote this as I remembered Speed in the 60's-brave, virtuous, and straight as an arrow. I also included many 60's elements (since it was my childhood) like music, fashions, suburban lifestyles, slang, and morals so it may come off as a bit corny and dated to the kids of today but that's the Speed I know and love. So consider this a retro piece of sorts. I also used elements from the 30th Anniversary Speed Racer book to stay true to canon. I'm a racing fan too, so I also used racing terms from steady doses of NASCAR every week. It's my take on how Speed met Trixie and asked her to join the Go Team. The characters are the property of DIC and Speed Racer Inc.  
  
THE ALPHA SPEED RACER-PRELUDE  
  
Part 1-FIRST SIGHT  
  
The cloudless midsummer blue sky reigned over the speed oval as the roar of 20,000 horses beneath the hood of the aerodynamic white flash with the stylized "M" on the hood and "5" painted on the door screamed down the backstretch. As the car careened around the far turns, staying close to the apron, it completed the lap and flew past the pit stall and small garage where a gangly young man with unruly russet hair growing at all angles hidden by a red baseball cap held a stopwatch while studying the car's progress intently. The auto made another lap, and then came to a screeching halt right in front of the timekeeper.  
  
The youth ran up to the driver as he extracted himself from the cockpit of the supersonic racer. "Man, Speed that time was your best so far. You did that last lap time in less than 30 seconds, outta sight!"  
  
"Yeah, but she got a bit loose on that last time on turn four. She may need a slight track bar adjustment or maybe some rubber in the springs." The driver removed his helmet and tossed it on the front seat of his car, revealing coal black wavy hair that framed a classically handsome visage with sculptured features and clear startlingly blue eyes. He untied his red neck scarf and used it to wipe the perspiration from his face and neck.  
  
"No problem, I'll take care of it in plenty of time for Raytona." The mechanic opened up the hood and leaned into the 12 cylinder engine to make the necessary adjustment.  
  
"Wow, Sparky, who is that?"  
  
Speed Racer, top rookie racer in the Formula 1 sport car circuit and the driver of the powerful Mach 5 had his cobalt blue eyes riveted to what was happening over the wire fence just twenty feet away from the garage of the Pops Motors empire.  
  
"Huh?" Sparky Sabu, Speed's crack mechanic and best friend had his head buried deep within the power plant that propelled the sleek state-of-the- art racing machine. He popped up at his friend's query and accidentally bumped his head on the raised hood. "Ow!" He rubbed the offended part gingerly. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Over there. Who's that groovy chick by the chopper?" Speed asked as his eyes took in the petite chestnut haired form in coral capri slacks, bent over the engine cowl of the shiny blue helicopter that was parked on the tarmac perpendicular to the fence of the track. When she extracted herself from the engine compartment Speed found himself mesmerized by a lovely face with delicate features that included a bow shaped cherry mouth and sea- green eyes. Man is she gorgeous! he said to himself.  
  
"Oh I don't know." Sparky peered over at the subject in question that had so captured his friend's attention. "Before today, I'd never seen her before, honest."  
  
"Well, I'm gonna go over and introduce myself to our new neighbor." Speed announced as he ran his hand hastily through his hair to comb it into some semblance of order. He retied his red neck scarf and began to make his way to the fence when a gruff "Harumph!" stopped him.  
  
A large, dark haired mountain of a man, clad a red short sleeved sport shirt, white slacks and cap with Pops Motorsports emblazoned on the front strode up to the young man with a stern expression on his craggy mustached face. "And where do you think you're going?"  
  
Speed whirled around, shrugged and grinned sheepishly, "Gee, Pops, I was just gonna go and say hello to our new neighbor." He turned to resume his action but Pops Racer laid a restraining arm on his middle son's arm.  
  
"Speed, you know that you're out here to practice. If you're serious about racing, everything else, pardon the expression, takes a back seat."  
  
"I know Pops but all work and no play--" Speed said but Pops cut him off.  
  
"Yeah, yeah I know. But you've 'played' enough in the off season to last a lifetime and you need to get it together if you want to debut in Raytona in three weeks." Pops declared.  
  
"But my last time was my best so far," his son protested. "Ask Sparky, he just recorded it."  
  
"Yeah, I saw," Pops said, referring to a clipboard that the day's lap times were recorded on. "But you could probably do even better. You got loose on the last turn and I'm sure that affected your time."  
  
"Sparky's working on that now."  
  
The sharp ring of the telephone in the garage interrupted the debate between father and son. With an annoyed sigh, Pops hurried into the garage to answer it.  
  
"Whew, saved by the bell," Speed muttered to Sparky who had stood by and listened to the exchange between Speed and Pops. He was ready to referee in case things between the older and younger Racers had gotten dicey. Speed glanced over at the girl working on the helicopter again as he resumed the motion to go over to the fence. This time Sparky intervened.  
  
"Hey, Spark, what gives? I just want to go over to say hi to her." The attempts made to keep him from accomplishing his objective were beginning to irritate Speed.  
  
"Listen, man I know you. You get tunnel vision whenever a pretty chick is within a 20 ft. radius of you. You begin by saying 'hi' and bat those baby blues and then when she's all yours, you drop her. You've broken more hearts in the past four months then a dog has fleas," Sparky pointed out.  
  
Speed sighed in exasperation. "Look, Sparky, I can't help it. I'm just trying to find the right girl. Those chicks I went with were absolute airheads whose chief concern was being seen with me. I was just a status symbol to them, man. They were more worried about their hair getting all mussed up while riding with me and as far as conversation is concerned, they wouldn't know how to begin one, let alone keep one going."  
  
"That's life in the fast lane, pal. The racetrack attracts groupies better than a rock concert. But what makes you think that that girl there is any different? You're not exactly inconspicuous you know, I'm sure she's read the papers and probably is the same as the others."  
  
Speed shook his head vehemently. "Nah, Sparky, she's different, I can tell."  
  
Sparky snorted, "You haven't even talked to the chick yet and you know. Yeah, sure, Speed." When it came to girls, his buddy Speed had a one- track mind. He shook his head knowing he was fighting a losing battle and turned his attention back to the Mach 5.  
  
Speed cast a wary eye toward the garage. Pops had finished his phone call but was nowhere in sight. Now was his chance! He strode over to the fence and feasted his eyes once again on the pert dancer's form immersed under the cowl. He lifted one leg onto the fence and with hardly any effort vaulted over to the tarmac where the girl and helicopter stood. He stealthily made his way to where the chopper was parked, and observed as she continued her work.  
  
"Damn!" a dulcet, slightly husky voice cried as the wrench she was using clattered to the asphalt below. Speed, ever the gentleman squatted down to retrieve the tool and handed it to the girl. Their hands touched with instantaneous electricity and startled she shot up, whirling around to meet amused blue orbs twinkling at her.  
  
"Hi," he said, grinning engagingly. "I thought that I'd come over to meet the lady chopper mechanic. I'm your neighbor by the way, my dad's factory, test track, and garage is over the fence. Name's Speed Racer." He offered his hand to the slightly flustered young woman whose eyes widened in shocked recognition.  
  
She took his hand momentarily speechless as realization hit her. She knew exactly who he was, his picture and name had been splattered across the newspapers for the last month. "H-hi," she stammered. Self-consciously, she hastily wiped her hand across her cheek, leaving a smudge of grease there.  
  
Speed couldn't help smiling even more. The nervous gesture that caused her to do that was so sweet and so different from the other girls he had been used to, he felt himself becoming utterly enchanted.  
  
"I didn't catch your name."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, composing herself. "I'm Trixie, Trixie Shimura."  
  
"Trixie, huh?" Speed repeated, liking the sound. "It fits you."  
  
Trixie lowered her head and blushed prettily. "Thank you. My folks were big fans of 'The Honeymooners."  
  
Speed gestured at the helicopter. "So you fix these eggbeaters, huh?"  
  
"Uh-huh. My dad flew them in the war and then took his savings and bought this and," she gestured to the hangar diagonally across from them, "that plane." Her slim index finger pointed at a bright yellow Cessna propeller plane sitting within.  
  
"Wow. So he's a pilot," Speed commented.  
  
"He was," Trixie replied, a shadow crossing her pretty face. "He passed away a month ago."  
  
Speed was immediately concerned. "Oh, gee I'm sorry." He inadvertently reached over to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Is there anything I can do?"  
  
Trixie felt her heart pound as his hand seared her. A local celebrity like Speed Racer was talking to me and touching me. Keep cool, Trix! She turned away from his compassionate blue gaze and answered, "Thanks, but I think I'm okay." She bravely straightened her shoulders and turned to face him again with a tremulous smile.  
  
Sensing the heaviness in the air between them, Speed decided to change the subject. "So do you know how to fly these crafts?"  
  
Trixie smiled, "Uh-huh. My dad took me up with him all the time and when I was old enough, he let me take lessons. When I got my driver's license, a month later I got my pilot's license."  
  
"Wow, I'm impressed," Speed said in awe. He ran his hand on the fuselage of the helicopter. "This machine looks like it's a real honey. I've always wanted to learn to fly one of these things." He turned and grinned warmly at her and Trixie felt her heart skip a beat.  
  
"Well, maybe sometime, I could take you up in it," she suggested demurely.  
  
"Really? That'd be groovy," Speed responded enthusiastically. "How'd you like to take a ride with me in my car?" he asked with a boyishly hopeful grin.  
  
"You mean the Mach 5?" Trixie said incredulously. She smiled shyly, "I-I'd like that."  
  
Speed grinned even wider and was about to ask Trixie to have a soda with him after he was finished practicing when a sharp whistle pierced the air, interrupting his train of thought. He glanced over at the fence where Sparky was gesturing energetically at him. Speed frowned as he waved, acknowledging his mechanic's efforts to get his attention. He sighed and shrugged apologetically.  
  
"I'm sorry, Trixie but I have to split. My crew chief is finished adjusting my car and I gotta finish practicing. Can I have your phone number so I can call you?" Speed asked.  
  
"Sure. But I don't have a piece of paper or pencil."  
  
"That's okay. I do." He reached into his hip pocket and withdrew a small black book with a pen. He flipped it open and said, "Okay, shoot."  
  
Trixie told him the number and added, "I'm living out here, there's a small cottage right behind the hangar and I'm going to use it to live in." She gestured to the hangar. "I have to decide what I'm going to do now that Dad's gone."  
  
Speed finished writing the number down and slipped the book back in his hip pocket. "What about your mom, if I may ask?"  
  
"She died when I was three. It's been my dad and me since. We actually just moved out here four months ago when Dad got sick to have treatments at National Hospital. But he was too far gone." Trixie's eyes filled with tears. She turned away from Speed, not wanting him to see her cry.  
  
Speed cursed himself inwardly for asking questions that brought up the pain of her losses. He moved forward to take her shoulders but Sparky whistled again, more insistently. Getting incensed, Speed quashed the overpowering urge to go and deck his friend as he gently placed his hand on Trixie's shoulder.  
  
"Look, Trixie, I really have to go but I want to talk to you some more. Will you be at home later?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Great, I'll give you a call at about eight, okay?" He offered his hand. "It was terrific meeting and talking to you."  
  
Trixie smiled through her tears. "Likewise." She shook his hand and again her luminous green eyes dazzled him.  
  
"Talk to you later." He felt guilty for and hated leaving her in her present sorrowful mood but he felt she needed her space. He had to go back and practice anyway, so he reluctantly turned and hurried over to the fence, scaled it, and took off in a sprint toward the waiting Mach 5. He threw a glowering look at his mechanic when he got to the car.  
  
Sparky gave his friend a quizzical look. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah, just peachy," Speed growled sarcastically, thoroughly annoyed with him.  
  
Still baffled as why Speed was in such a temper, Sparky stood there with the stopwatch in his hand and asked with a slight grin, "Well, Speed, was your mission accomplished? Or did you crash and burn?"  
  
Speed leapt into the driver's seat and turned a scowl toward his best friend. "Knock off the wisecracks, Sparky and let's get this show on the road," he snapped as he donned his helmet, turned the key, revved the motor, and pealed off down the track, spinning his tires and leaving a cloud of rubber smoke as he left.  
  
"What'd I do?" Sparky asked, watching his buddy's hasty departure, totally stumped at Speed's unusually abrupt manner. 


	2. Part 2 CONTACT

Part 2-CONTACT  
The Racer home was a neat split level ranch style dwelling and attached carport that was about a half a mile away from the Racer factory and track, at the end of a private cul-de-sac. Surrounded by trees and shrubs, the front lawn was picture perfect, like right out of House and Garden, neatly trimmed and green. The backyard was the real attraction for just after the white concrete patio with matching brick barbecue, swing and picnic table complete with umbrella was a profusion of well cared for flowers, the perimeter of the yard lined with white rose bushes in full bloom. The ivory buds were the favorite of the matriarch of the Racer family, affectionately known as "Mom" to everybody. She was on her knees, a basket beside her as she trimmed the bushes, taking the roses and placing them into the basket.  
  
Mom was an attractive brunette with bright blue eyes, of average build with a trim figure that retained its girlish dimensions in spite of having given birth to three boys. As the lone female in a house filled with men, her husband and her sons absolutely doted on her. All of them kept her hopping with the exception of her eldest, Rex, who was sadly, absent from the family. Rex's departure had been a dark cloud over the fairly serene life of the Racer family and an occasional bone of contention between her middle son Speed and her husband because up until he was 11 when Rex left, Speed had idolized his older brother. Since Rex had left, Speed had done everything like his elder sibling, including eschewing college after he had graduated high school to become a professional race car driver, much to Pops' chagrin.  
  
Mom was still on her knees, trimming a bloom off of one of her beloved rose bushes when she was interrupted by a high pitched scream, coming from the general direction of the carport. She turned her head in that direction.  
  
"Spritle, what in heaven's name is going on out there?" she called out.  
  
Spritle Racer, a precocious seven-year-old with a gamin face and shining chocolate eyes came around with an innocent look. "What'd you mean, Mom?"  
  
Mom put her clippers down, got to her feet and faced her youngest son with a stern look and arms akimbo. "You know exactly what I mean, Spritle. How many times must I tell you that Chim Chim is not a toy and you can't treat him like that. Your father and I have told you again and again that if you tease him or torture him too much, that he can hurt you. So what did you do to him?"  
  
The party in question came scampering out and aligned himself beside the baby of the Racer family. The large brown chimpanzee placed his arm around Spritle as if to defend him. "Honest, Mom, I didn't do anything to Chim Chim. He's my best friend." Spritle stood there with his arms crossed in front, a stubborn tilt to his chin.  
  
"Well, then explain why I heard all that screaming," Mom demanded, brooking no nonsense.  
  
"Okay," Spritle admitted grudgingly. "I wanted to see if Chim Chim could ride my bike so I put him on the seat and then I pushed him to see if he would start pedaling. He fell down and then came over and pinched me. Hard." He rubbed the offended member, his posterior as Mom stifled a giggle.  
  
The unique but highly recognizable sound of the Mach 5 rumbling up the driveway rescued Mom from insulting the little boy's dignity further by bursting into laughter. "Looks like your brother's home."  
  
"Speedy!" Spritle squealed in delight as he met his brother and Speed made his way around the carport and into the yard. The boy nearly tackled him in greeting with Chim Chim right behind.  
  
"Uh! Hey Spritle, take it easy. I don't play football any more and I'm tired," Speed protested good-naturedly as he held his baby brother and simian pal off. "Give me a break, okay?"  
  
Mom smiled fondly at her two boys. The way Speed used to worship Rex when he was younger was exactly how Spritle felt about Speed. "He's just glad to see you, dear. So how was your practice session?"  
  
Speed grinned as he leaned in to kiss his mother on the cheek. "Terrific, Mom. Oh, by the way, what time's dinner?" he asked as they all made their way into the house.  
  
"About 7:30."  
  
Speed frowned, "Why so late?"  
  
Mom put her basket of roses down on the kitchen counter. "Your father is tied up at the factory with some new plans for another car. He won't be home till then. If you're hungry, you can make a sandwich or have some fruit to tide you over."  
  
Speed sighed in dismay, his sunny disposition gone. "Okay," he said, resigned.  
  
Piqued by his tone of voice, Mom turned around to see her son's disappointment and puzzled she inquired, "Why such a long face because dinner's late, Speed?"  
  
Speed flinched slightly and pasted a forced smile on his face. "Oh nothing, Mom. I was just hungry like you said." He opened the refrigerator and pretended to root around for something to eat although right now food was the furthest thing from his mind. He grabbed an apple for appearance's sake and closing the door he headed out of the kitchen. "I'm going up to my room to rest before dinner, okay?"  
  
"Okay, sweetheart. I'll be starting dinner shortly." Mom Racer replied as she arranged the roses she had cut into her favorite vase.  
  
Speed sighed as he made his way across the living room to the stairs. Spritle, who was watching his favorite cartoon show on television jumped up from the couch and stopped his brother. "Speedy, can you take me to the hobby store after dinner? There's a model I want to get with my allowance."  
  
"Gee, Spritle can't it wait till tomorrow?" Speed asked in an irritated voice. "There's something I gotta do after dinner." He turned and started climbing the stairs.  
  
"But you promised me this morning you'd take me tonight!" his kid brother whined. "Please, Speedy?"  
  
Speed sighed deeply, his frustration mounting. It seemed nothing was going to go his way. At this rate he'd never get to call Trixie and he really was looking forward to talking to her again. But Spritle could be persistent to the point of being relentless when he was promised something so to avoid a meltdown by his excitable little brother he agreed. "Okay, okay. But make sure you're ready to leave right after dinner. And let's not spend all night at the hobby store."  
  
"Thanks Speedy, you bet," Spritle crowed happily. Satisfied, he went back to watching TV.  
  
I'm glad somebody's happy Speed said sullenly to himself as he mounted the stairs and headed for his room. He entered and closed his door hard enough to display his mood yet not loud enough to be considered a slam. He tossed the apple on his dresser; discarding it, flopped on his bed and stared morosely out his window as he debated with himself as what to do. The last thing he wanted was for Trixie to think that because of his newfound celebrity status that he would just break a promise to call her. What she thought of him was of the utmost importance to him for some reason.  
  
Speed consulted his watch. It was 6:15, and he glanced at his phone, sitting on his nightstand. Good thing that due to his growing career and reputation as a racer, his father had suggested he have his own private line, he didn't want Spritle to pick up another extension and listen in like he was fond of doing on the main phone. He reached in his hip pocket for the black notebook in which he kept all his phone numbers. He thumbed open to the page where he had scribbled Trixie's name and number. He reached for the phone then hesitated.  
  
What if she's not home? Or what if she's busy and can't talk? Speed worried as he tried to decide. He nervously ran a hand through his coal black hair and then laughed at himself. Take it easy, Speed you've done this before, you're not 13 man, you're 18. You've called girls lots of times before, so why is this chick so different? He picked up the phone and looking at the book, dialed the number..  
  
Trixie was just getting ready to step into the shower. She had spent the rest of the afternoon finishing tuning up the engine of her helicopter and she was covered in grease and sweat. She stripped her clothes off, dropped them into the hamper and selected some towels, placing them on the hamper. She was adjusting the spigots and was about to step under the steaming curtain of rushing water when the phone rang. She hurriedly grabbed her robe hanging on the hook on the bathroom wall, donned it and scurried to the princess phone in her bedroom.  
  
"Hello?" she said a bit breathlessly into the receiver.  
  
"Hi, Trixie, it's me, Speed." the rich tenor voice on the other end answered.  
  
"Oh hi," she said, pulling her robe about her self consciously, even though he was just on the phone. "How are you?"  
  
"Good. Say, did I call at a bad time?"  
  
"Uh, no, I was just about to take a shower. You're early, you told me you were calling me at eight."  
  
"I know and I'm sorry, Trixie but I wouldn't have been able to call then. I forgot that I promised my kid brother that I'd take him somewhere so I wouldn't have been home and I didn't want you to think I'd blow you off," Speed explained, feeling embarrassed that maybe he'd have made a mistake. "If you can't talk now, I'll understand."  
  
"Oh no, no, it's okay." She hastened to reassure him. "Could you hang on a minute? I need to shut off my shower."  
  
"Sure," Speed replied, relieved. "Take your time."  
  
Trixie got up from the bed and rushed to the bathroom to shut off the shower. She returned to the phone, took a deep breath to calm her hammering heart and said cheerily into the receiver, "I'm back."  
  
"Welcome back," Speed said warmly. "I missed you."  
  
Trixie smiled, blushing. "So how'd practice go?"  
  
"Great. I bettered my time by 2 tenths of a second. Sparky-he's my mechanic, helped a problem I had with the rear wheels getting loose which had affected my times during the morning. I averaged a speed of about 220 miles per hour in just under 30 seconds."  
  
"It must be something to drive a car that fast," Trixie said, awe in her voice. "I couldn't imagine driving a car at that speed. When I fly my plane, it's different 'cause you have to gain a lot of speed to get airborne, I couldn't imagine staying on the ground going that fast."  
  
Speed laughed, "It's nothing really. You get used to it." He continued, "So did you finish your repairs on the chopper?"  
  
"Uh-huh. I was just giving it its quarterly tune up. I do the repairs on the plane and on my convertible, too. My dad taught me how to tune up engines, change oil, calibrate spark plugs, gap 'em and change wires so I don't have to spend money hiring someone to do it. Especially now, with Dad gone, I have to watch my pennies."  
  
Speed listened, becoming more and more entranced. He calmed himself and stated, "That reminds me. I'm really sorry I asked about your mom and made you cry today, Trixie. I felt really bad that I had just met you and I ended up making you cry," Speed apologized. "And I meant what I said, if there's anything I can do, please let me know."  
  
Trixie was touched by his concern. Speed Racer, the celebrated rookie racer was turning out to be one of the nicest, most genuine guys she'd ever met and she had only known him for half a day. "Thank you, Speed," she said softly, demurely.  
  
Speed felt his heart pound as he was enchanted by the soft sweet voice. "Look, Trixie I was wondering if you weren't busy tomorrow afternoon if you'd like to go for a ride in the Mach 5 with me after I finished practicing. That is if you don't have anything important to do," he added modestly.  
  
"Oh no, I don't have any plans tomorrow." Trixie was quick to reassure him. Coyly, she answered, "I'd love to go for a ride with you, Speed."  
  
"Outta sight! Tell you what, I'll swing by your place around 1:30 tomorrow afternoon and pick you up, okay?"  
  
"Sure. I'll be waiting."  
  
Speed was exultant. "Groovy, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon then. Bye-bye Trix."  
  
"See ya, Speed."  
  
Speed hung the phone up and then let loose a delighted whoop "Yeah! She's gonna go out with me. All right!"  
  
His bedroom door swung open and Spritle charged in with Chim Chim. "Speedy, why were you yellin' like that?"  
  
"Uh-huh. And how'd you know I was yelling, huh, Spritle?" Speed asked in mock anger, picking up the youngest Racer by his arms and glaring right in his face.  
  
Spritle stammered, "Uh, uh I was playin' with Chim Chim in my room and I heard you. So who's gonna go out with you?"  
  
"That, squirt, is none of your business," Speed told his brother as he set him down and playfully slapped his bottom.  
  
"OWW! Speed! That's where Chim Chim pinched me before! Have a heart, will ya?" Spritle complained as he rubbed his hand gingerly on his buttocks.  
  
"Gee, I'm sorry Spritle, I didn't mean to hurt you," Speed said, concerned. He tussled the boy's head affectionately. He really loved the little guy even if he did get on his nerves at times being constantly underfoot.  
  
Spritle grinned at his big brother. "That's okay, Speedy," he said, tackling him and giving him a bear hug. Chim Chim, feeling left out made a flying leap on top of Speed and Spritle, sending both Racer offspring prone on Speed's bed and knocking it into the wall with a loud bang. The three wrestled about on Speed's bed in the wild abandon of horseplay.  
  
"Boys! What's going on up there?" Mom Racer called at the foot of the stairs. "Speed, are you being too rough with your brother? Be careful, he's still a little boy. And Spritle, you leave your big brother alone. He's had a long day at the track and he needs to rest," she admonished.  
  
Speed and Spritle halted the action at the stern sound of their mother's voice. Both boys chimed in unison, "Okay, Mom." Exchanging looks with each other and snickering, they went back and resumed a somewhat subdued wrestling match. 


	3. Part 3 FIRST DATE

Part 3-FIRST DATE 

The next morning was bright and sunny with a soft breeze, precluding a perfect day for a ride in the country. Speed pulled the Mach 5 out of the driveway of his house and headed for the practice track, singing one of his favorite pop songs of the day, the Temptations "My Girl" along with the eight-track tape deck he had installed in the race car. A bouquet of freshly cut white roses from his mother's garden lay on the passenger seat beside him. He had asked Mom Racer if he could cut some of her favorite roses to take over to give to Trixie, telling his mother all about the meeting with her. Mom agreed, advising her middle son to be careful, knowing his past relationships and their outcome with the negative press they had generated. She loved her son deeply but she was also concerned with the publicity her family received and didn't want him to do anything further to add any grist to the gossip mongers' overflowing mills. Speed assured his mother that he would be careful as he drove off. He made his way to the practice track in no time and like any normal music loving teen, he had the volume cranked up as he drove up to the open garage area.

Amused, Sparky chuckled at his friend as Speed shifted the car into park and finished singing along with the last chorus of the song before shutting down the engine. "Hey pal, what did you do with the money your folks gave you for singing lessons?"

"Very funny, Spark. You'd better not quit your day job to be a comedian either, man. You'd starve on Skid Row," Speed countered as he leapt over the side of the Mach 5.

"So what has you so chipper today? When you came back yesterday, I thought you wanted to take my head off, man. And you drove like a bat out of hell."

Speed lowered his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry about that, Spark. But I was talking to Trixie about her folks and you just interrupted. It made me PO'd."

"Yeah, but your time on the track improved so I forgive you." Sparky said evenly. "So her name's Trixie, huh? What else did you find out about her?"

"She's all alone. Her dad passed away last month and her mom died when she was little." Speed recounted his concern plain in his voice. He walked over to the end leading to the track and glanced at the fence in the distance and the hangar with its door closed.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, she's a pilot. She flies the chopper she was working on yesterday and a small plane. She's a mechanic too," Speed informed him with the ardently admiring tone of one totally smitten.

Sparky nodded then reached into the passenger seat of the Mach 5 and picked up the roses. "Aw, Speed you shouldn't have. I didn't know you cared."

Speed snatched the bouquet away from his smirking mechanic. "You're a regular riot, man. If you must know, these are for Trixie. I'm taking her out later." He placed the bouquet carefully back on the passenger seat of the Mach 5.

Sparky postured with his hand over his ear and intoned in perfect sports announcer style, "And once again, folks, the great Speed Racer has fallen prey to Cupid's arrow."

Speed whirled around and pinned his mechanic with a glare, "Cut it out, Sparky. I've only talked to the girl twice."

"Twice?"

"Yeah, I called her last night. And I'm gonna see her this afternoon after practice to go for a ride." Deciding to change the subject, he looked about the garage and the surrounding area. "So where's Pops, I thought he'd be here."

"He's busy working on the prototype for a new engine. He said he'd be down to watch your laps as soon as you started."

"Yeah, and when is that gonna be?" a familiar gravelly baritone growled behind them. Pops Racer stood there, arms folded and a poker expression across his heavy visage.

Speed turned his attention to his father. "Uh, Hi, Pops. I was just heading out there."

"Uh-huh. I saw where your mind was yesterday Speed, and I hope that you intend to concentrate better out there today. You were distracted and I'm glad to see that she's nowhere in sight." He glanced at the airfield behind the fence.

"Pops, my times yesterday improved and they'll be even better today so please stop treating me like a kid," Speed snapped, suddenly impatient with all the scrutiny his behavior was receiving. Without any further delay, he hopped into the driver's seat of the Mach 5, started it up and pulled it out to the track to begin his laps.

Sparky turned to Pops, "Take it easy on him, he's only 18."

Pops shook his head and muttered to Sparky, "I know he's only 18 but if he's serious about racing he has to keep his focus. I hope his mind's on his driving today instead of on his johnson." His mind dwelt briefly on his departed oldest son, Rex as he strode out to the track to observe his middle son's progress.

In her cottage near the airfield, Trixie was fresh from her shower and in her bedroom, having just finished drying her chestnut curls and going through her closet trying to decide on what to wear when Speed picked her up later. The window facing the airfield and track was open and she could hear the powerful rumble of the Mach 5 as it flew around the oval, reverberating through the walls. Trixie smiled as she pictured Speed behind the wheel, a determinedly intense look on his handsome face as he gunned the vehicle about the track. He had no idea that she had surreptitiously watched him practice several times since she and her father had moved to the airfield when she wasn't at National Hospital, busy with her father's treatments. She also had read every piece written about him in the local and national papers while keeping vigil over her father's hospital bed and knew all about his many liaisons with his female fan base he had had in scandal sheets and local columns. But, she found most of what the gossip columns said to be the direct opposite of the way he appeared to her in their meeting and during their phone conversation, sweet, modest, and an all around nice guy.

Trixie continued filing through her closet taking out hanger after hanger to make a selection then for one reason or another discarding it. The ringing of her phone interrupted her task and she wondered who it could be since the sound of the Mach 5 going still through its paces around the track assured her that it wasn't Speed. She reached over to her nightstand and answered it while still leafing through her closet.

"Hello?"

"May I speak to Trixie Shimura?" an older male voice asked.

"Speaking."

"Miss Shimura, My name's Wiley and I understand you and your father run an air charter business. Is that true?"

"It was, sir. My father has recently passed away."

"Oh, I'm sorry. But I understand that you are quite an accomplished pilot in your own right."

"That's true. But Mr. Wiley, I haven't decided yet what I want to do with the business. My father's passing has put all plans on hold for the time being at least."

"Well, Miss Shimura, I would like to discuss a business proposition for you. Can we meet somewhere today to discuss it?" Wiley asked.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. I have plans for the day." Trixie smiled, her mind on Speed.

"Well, how about tomorrow or the next day?" the man persisted.

Trixie sighed, "Mr. Wiley, with all due respect, I'd rather just take some more time to decide exactly what I want to do about the business."

"I understand, Miss Shimura but you will need a form of income and this proposition can turn out to be quite lucrative for you. I'm sure that your father's medical bills will be difficult to pay without income." the man reasoned.

Trixie was surprised and uneasy as she took note of the enigmatic man's grasp of her personal family situation. How did he know that she had large medical bills to pay? She sighed again as she spied the clock on the wall. "Mr. Wiley, I'm running late for my engagement. Could we discuss this at a later time?" she requested as she finally chose her outfit, a silky peach colored tank top with cinnamon petalpusher pants and matching ballet slippers.

"Very well, Miss Shimura. I'll phone back in a few days. But please think about what I've said, it could be a very good solution for you now that your father's gone. Good day." Wiley hung up abruptly and Trixie again felt a shiver of unease as his somewhat pushy attitude troubled her. Hanging the phone up she shrugged it off and proceeded to dress and put on her makeup.

It was just about one fifteen when the Mach 5 pulled up to the garage area at the Pops Motors practice track, both Sparky and Pops following the vehicle as it rolled to the motor stall. Speed cut the engine and extricated himself from the cockpit pulling his helmet off, as Sparky and his father came up to the driver's side of the car.

"That was terrific, son. Your times are getting better each lap," Pops said, patting Speed on the shoulder heartily.

"I told you they would, Pops. You should have more faith in me," Speed said in a coaxing tone.

"I do have faith in you, Speed. I just want to make sure that you are focused and serious. Remember your brother cracked up because of his lack of experience and focus. I just want to make sure you don't make the same mistakes," Pops entreated to his middle child. "I lost him, I don't want to lose you, too."

Speed put a reassuring hand on his father's shoulder. "You won't lose me, Pops," he said softly. "I promise I'll make you proud of me."

"I am proud of you, Speed," Pops said gruffly, his voice filled with emotion. He clapped his hand on his son's shoulder. He turned away briskly, wiping his eyes and spotted the bouquet of white roses sitting on the seat of the Mach 5. "What's with the flowers?" he asked curiously.

"Oh those?" Speed said trying to be casual. "They're from Mom's garden."

"I know that. Why would you have a bunch of roses with you?" Pops wanted to know regarding his son suspiciously.

Speed stammered nervously, "I-ah-- I have a date, Pops." He consulted his watch. "And I'll be late if I don't take off soon." He made to head for the restroom to freshen up but Pops laid a hand on him to detain him.

"Speed, when it comes to girls, you need to take it easy. You're under a microscope now, and you have to be careful with the girls you see. Some of them are quite willing to tell the press anything once you're involved with them and especially after you ditch them."

Speed cringed at his father's choice of words. "I know, Pops but Trixie's different, I know she is."

"Trixie, huh? Was that the cute little number working on the chopper next door yesterday?"

"Yeah. She lives over there off the airfield. Her dad and her are pilots and moved to town four months ago. Her dad just died about month ago." Speed replied, getting anxious as he looked at his watch again.

Pops felt a twinge of sympathy for the girl but still his protective nature for his offspring took precedence. He knew when his son had a thing for a girl and was determined, that he wouldn't be swayed so he sighed, giving up. "Okay, Speed, okay. But remember what I said."

"I will, Pops."

Pops let go of his son and watched as Speed rushed into the restroom. He sighed again as he strode over to Sparky.

"I hope that he'll watch out for himself. He tends to wear his heart on his sleeve and he could be an easy mark for the scheming females out there."

Sparky opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it as Speed emerged from the restroom, hastily brushing his inky hair back as he made tracks to the waiting Mach 5.

He waved at the two, "See ya later." He revved up the motor, backed up and peeled off, the sound of the Temptations fading as he pulled away. Pops and Sparky watched as the Mach 5 disappeared down the road.

Pops shook his head. "Come on Sparky, let's head up to the office so I can show you the plans for the new engine I'm working on." He turned and strode toward the factory with Sparky in tow.

Trixie had been putting the finishing touches on her lipstick when the unmistakable sound of a powerful engine roared up her driveway. The engine quieted and the last strains of "My Girl" drifted to Trixie's ears. She grinned, Wow, Speed's a devoted fan of Motown just like me!

Her doorbell rang and she scooted out to answer it, checking her appearance one last time in the mirror hanging on the wall by the door. She opened the door and greeted Speed warmly.

"Hi, Speed."

Speed grinned as he took in the pretty picture she made, fresh and grease- free. "Hi Trixie." He brought out his hand and the roses from his mother's garden. "These are for you."

Trixie gasped in delight. "Oh Speed, they're beautiful, thank you," she said softly, impulsively kissing him on the cheek. Startled by the gesture, they both averted their eyes, blushing.

"Uh, I'd better go and put these in water. Excuse me for a minute," Trixie said shyly as she headed into her kitchen.

Speed sighed, savoring the memory of her kiss as he lightly rubbed his cheek imagining that the butterfly touch of her lips was still there. No doubt about it, this girl was making his heart do flip-flops and they hadn't even begun their first date yet. He found himself getting more excited about the upcoming afternoon with her.

Trixie returned with the ivory blooms nestled in a deep blue vase. She placed the vase on an end table near the window by the door. Speed was leaning against the doorjamb watching her, his cobalt eyes twinkling.

She smiled at him sweetly. "Thanks again."

"Don't mention it, I got 'em from my mother's garden. They're her favorites," Speed said. He took her elbow and asked, "Shall we go? It's a groovy day for a ride in the country."

Trixie nodded with a smile and he opened the door for her and followed her out. Still lightly holding her elbow, he guided her to the passenger door of the Mach 5 and opening it, assisted her in. Trixie slipped into the low bucket seat set back so when she got in, it was like she was reclining. She noted that the armrest was securely in the upright position, making her conscious of the closeness of her seat to Speed's as he made his way around the front of his car to get in.

Speed opened his door and climbed in behind the wheel. He observed her reaction to being in the Mach 5 for the first time and was secretly pleased, knowing he had impressed her.

"So what do you think of her?" he asked, his eyes wide and expectant.

"Wow!" Trixie exclaimed. She glanced about the car in awe, before today she had never actually been in a race car. She was totally bowled over and as a technician she examined the dashboard, speedometer, odometer, stick shift, and the myriad of other gadgets that she'd never seen in any plane let alone any car before. "I'm very impressed."

"That's nothing," Speed said proudly. "Take a look at this." He pointed to the steering wheel. The steering wheel really caught her eye as it was festooned with a cluster of push buttons, each with its own function.

Speed explained each button to Trixie starting from the top and going clockwise. "Control A operates the Auto Jacks. Pops put them in to help Sparky-he's my buddy and mechanic-to make repairs or adjustments. Control B equips the car with special grip tires and increases horsepower with auxiliary motors for each wheel. Control C activates rotary saws to cut down any rough brush that might get in the way if I drive on rough terrain. Control D closes up the cockpit here and protects me during races. It's also for when I turn on my air conditioner. Control E is for extra bright lights-brighter than fog lights for driving in dark or special conditions. Control F supplies the cockpit with oxygen if I drive underwater."

"Underwater?" Trixie interrupted incredulously, her sea green eyes wide with wonder. "You mean you can actually drive underwater in this car?"

"Uh-huh. It also activates a periscope to see when I'm underwater on this screen." Speed pointed to the back of the divider of the two seats and showed her a slot where a flat screen of about five inches was stored. And last but not least, Control G releases the homing robot."

"Homing robot?"

"Yeah, Pops installed it so I can send information back and forth to him. Here are the control buttons." Speed pointed to two switches on the console and then he pushed the G button down. A door on the car's hood slid open and what appeared to be a mechanical bird flew out and landed on his lap. He held it up so Trixie could get a better look.

"I repeat, wow!" Trixie said, completely blown away. She handed the robot back and Speed tossed it up so it headed back to its compartment under the hood.

Speed grinned at her. "Well, now that you've got the grand tour, what do you say we blast off? I know some great roads around here for a nice ride."

Trixie returned his grin. "I'm ready when you are."

Speed turned the key and the 12 cylinder power plant roared to life. He shifted to reverse and grabbed the back of her seat to look as he backed the car down the driveway, inadvertently brushing her bare shoulder with his thumb. The touch was electric because as he met her gaze his eyes twinkled and when he brought his hand back to the wheel to drive away, he let his hand brush her shoulder again. Trixie shyly turned from his steady warm gaze as they began their drive.

Speed pushed a tape in the tape deck. "How about some music?" The sounds of the Temptations floated out of the speakers with "Ain't Too Proud to Beg."

"I love Motown," Trixie said enthusiastically as she snapped her fingers to the music.

"Now ya see, I knew there was something else I liked about you," Speed responded.

Trixie giggled.

Speed drove all around the town, then took Trixie to some really twisting roads around Craggy Peak Mountain, a scenic but treacherous place that had rugged palisades of rock that came right to the edge of the road. There were signs warning of falling rocks every quarter of a mile, and as Speed expertly maneuvered the Mach 5 around the sharp curves Trixie asked him about his burgeoning career.

"So how'd you decide to be a racing driver?" she inquired.

Speed took a deep breath. "I guess it's in the blood. You see, my older brother Rex was a racer and he crashed so Pops-my father-forbid him to race again, saying he didn't have the experience. So Rex and Pops had a huge blowout that ended up with Rex splitting. I was about 11 when it happened. Since then, we've never heard from him at all." Speed sighed heavily, the sadness of remembering the past situation casting a cloud on what was turning out to be an enjoyable outing with a girl he was fired up to be with.

Trixie noticed the shadow in his eyes and placed her hand on his arm to comfort him. "You guys were really close, huh?"

"Yeah, I really looked up to him. He was a hero to me and he never thought I was a drag when I was a little kid, following him everywhere," Speed replied, basking in the warmth of the sun and her attention as he continued to drive the mountain road.

"So you learned to be a racer."

"Uh-huh. Fireball Rust, the great racer, saw me when I raced go-carts. He was so impressed he took me as his student right after I got my license two years ago. He still helps me with my driving 'cause I haven't really been in any races yet. I mean I've been in a few road rallies and some local dirt track races, I've done that since I was 12, behind Pops' back, but Fireball convinced him I had a natural talent so he's letting me get into some races before the Grand Prix," Speed explained. "But all this racing talk must be boring you."

Trixie shook her head vehemently, setting her chestnut curls to dance about her lovely face. "Oh no, Speed, not at all. I love cars and I fly planes, remember?"

Speed smiled slowly. "I remember. So, now it's your turn, you tell me, how'd a pretty little thing like you get interested in flying?"

Trixie replied, "My dad mostly. I used to go up with him when he had a charter flight and he'd let me sit beside him as he showed me how the instruments and controls worked. And I paid attention. On the weekends, when I didn't have school, he'd take me either in the plane or the helicopter. So when I got old enough, I took lessons and got my hours to get my license."

"And you learned how to fix the motors on 'em?"

"Uh-huh. I loved to tinker with motors and things since I was little and used to watch my dad fix the planes." Trixie continued telling him about her interest in engines and anything mechanical.

As she went on, Speed smiled engagingly at her while he felt the excitement level in his being skyrocket. Well it happened, I finally found her. The perfect girl for me Speed mused to himself as he listened intently. He felt his heart pound with anticipation as he griped his wheel.

The tape began playing "My Girl" again and Speed gazed at Trixie while he automatically chimed in to sing along:

Trixie grinned and she joined in. During the instrumental bridge, Speed reached over and took hold of Trixie's left hand and squeezed it, his joy plain. She returned the gesture, his mood infectious as they resumed singing along.

They finished the song in effervescent unison, giggling like children in unadulterated mirth. As they drove along, they were momentarily silent and each was wrapped up in their own individual thoughts. Trixie was filled with a sense of wonder at how very easy it was to be with a famous racer. He was so down-to-earth and fun to be with. And Speed was amazed that he could actually be with a girl and not have to put up a front or be something he wasn't. Unlike other girls, he found it refreshing that by talking to her that she didn't expect anything special from him, he was just able to relax and be himself.

As the sun made its way toward the western horizon, Speed drove back into town and they pulled into a snack shop located on the outskirts called THE Place. He killed the motor and turned to Trixie.

"You hungry, Trix? It's close to dinnertime."

She nodded, "Yeah, that ride and our singing gave me an appetite."

"Let's go then. This place serves the best cheeseburgers in town." He exited his side and crossing in front of the hood of the Mach 5, opened her door and offered his hand to help her out. Still holding her hand, he opened the door for her and followed her in.

The place was paneled in walnut, lit by pink fluorescent lights and had several booths around the perimeter of the room so the main floor could be used for dancing. A classic Wurlitzer jukebox was located adjacent to the dance floor and there was at the present, a Beach Boys song it was playing. Speed guided Trixie to a far corner booth across from the jukebox that was somewhat private although the shop was not crowded. They both slid in as a waiter brought menus. Trixie scanned the interior, finding the shop to be cozy and understated, not at all what she would expect a celebrity like Speed Racer to claim as his favorite hangout.

Noticing her glancing about Speed said to her. "I hope this is okay."

"It's fine, Speed, really," she reassured him. She studied the menu, not knowing what she wanted, only that now that they were together in public, she wanted to impress him with a ladylike demeanor.

Speed gently took the menu from her. "If it's okay with you, I'll order for both of us. I know the best thing to get, I come here all the time." He called the waiter over and ordered two cheeseburger platters and two Cokes. After handing the menus back to the waiter he realized that he might have been a bit presumptuous. "Gee, I'm sorry, Trixie. Maybe you wanted something else?"

Trixie shook her head slowly. "Oh no, Speed. I'm glad you did, I couldn't decide what I wanted anyway and I like cheeseburgers and Coke."

Speed grinned and took her hand again. Gazing deeply into her eyes he asked, "Can I ask you a question? And believe me, this isn't a line."

"Sure." She felt her heart begin to pound as she was drawn into the cobalt depths of his eyes.

"I've only known you for less than two days so why is it so easy to be with you, like I've known you all my life?"

Trixie was taken aback by the emotion she felt emanating from him. She stammered nervously, "I-I don't know. I was thinking the same thing. This has never happened to me before."

Speed gazed intently into her eyes. "Me either." He was stroking her hand in both of his.

Subconsciously, Trixie pulled her hand away and averted her eyes. "But you've gone out with so many girls," she pointed out quietly.

Speed groaned inwardly and then cursed the press that had painted a picture of him as such a roue. It had been easy, with his classic good looks and growing reputation as a talented racer, the press had built him up to be a real Casanova, they had themselves a field day. And unfortunately for Speed, hell truly had no fury like a woman scorned for a few of the scorned females had unleashed their fury staying true to the old saw, telling the reporters anything they wanted to know to add to the illusion. Speed was filled with conviction to prove to this beautiful girl in front of him that he was not what the papers and magazine articles said he was. He had opened his mouth to do just that when the door of the shop opened and a general commotion drew both Speed and Trixie's attention to the source.

"You're bananas!"

"I'm tellin' ya that car out there's the Mach 5, ya jerk. I'd know that car anywhere,"

A group of about four teenaged boys, dressed in yellow windbreaker jackets and jeans trouped over to the middle of the dance floor in heated debate. The ringleader turned his head shaking it in disgust when his eyes fell on the young couple in the far booth.

His eyes widened in shocked surprise. "Well, I'll be damned Petey, you were right. Look fellas, it's Speed Racer!" He and his entourage rushed up to the booth where Speed and Trixie sat.

Speed quashed his rising annoyance at having his date with Trixie interrupted and grinned politely at the group as he waved congenially. "Hiya fellas." They all introduced themselves to the pair who had no choice but to acknowledge them graciously.

Wow, I knew that was your car, Speed."

"Holy cow, imagine Speed Racer, here with us!" The somewhat rowdy group gathered around as they began a rapid-fire deluge of questions for the rookie racer.

"Can we have your autograph?"

"So what's it like driving the Mach 5?"

"How fast does it really go?"

"Can we see the motor?"

"Will you take me for a ride?"

"Now hold on a minute will ya fellas?" Speed held his hand up in a placating way. He shrugged apologetically and gestured to Trixie. "Me and my girl just came here to grab a bite, okay? I'll be glad to sign autographs for you all and I'll even show you the Mach 5 but let us eat first. Deal?"

They all agreed excitedly. "It's a deal!" they chorused.

The ringleader, a burly, ruddy boy by the name Buddy got the message and tossed his head in a gesture to the rest of the group. "Sorry about these apes, Speed. I'll get 'um away so's you and your girl can eat in peace." He addressed the youths, "C'mon you guys, let's leave Speed and his chick alone to eat!"

The group dispersed at their leader's gruff command and headed for another booth.

Speed heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I was thinking we'd never have gotten rid of them if Buddy hadn't said something." He took note of Trixie's reticence, as she had been silent through the entire noisy exchange. "You okay, Trix?" he asked gently.

Trixie was studying Speed with a strange light in her eyes. "You called me your girl," she stated bemusedly.

Speed was taken aback by her soft statement. He grinned sheepishly as he admitted, "Yeah, I guess I did." He looked a tad worriedly at her. "Did that offend you? I mean it is only our first date and I kind of jumped the gun a bit."

Trixie lowered her head demurely. "I liked it, Speed," she said softly.

A light entered Speed's eyes as he felt the polite boundaries of new acquaintances come crashing down. He was never one who believed in love at first sight but gazing at Trixie he felt eager and ready to revise his thoughts on the matter. He reached his hands across the table and took her hands in both of his.

The waiter chose that moment to arrive with their order. Reluctantly, Speed let go of Trixie's hands, as their plates were set before them.

"To be continued," he said almost huskily, his eyes glowing like star sapphires and his mind reeling.

She smiled with a light of invitation in her eyes. "Don't worry, I'll remember where we left off," she promised.

They finished their meal and after some obligatory time with the boisterous group of young men, Speed took Trixie over to Lake Icy Chill to watch the sunset and talk. They conversed as the sun gradually dipped below the horizon.

"So tell me all about your family," Trixie said as Speed put in another tape. The sounds of Smokey Robinson and the Miracles filled the air.

"Well, I have two brothers. My kid brother Spritle, who you met and I mentioned before about my older brother Rex who left home when I was 11. I really miss him," Speed said wistfully staring out at the lake.

"Tell me more about him."

Speed smiled reminiscently. "He was the coolest. And I'm not just saying it because he's my brother. He taught me everything about everything, sports, fighting, you name it. When he started racing go-carts, he used to let me watch when he and Pops worked on the car and I learned all about engines and racing from him."

"So Pops was okay with Rex racing?" Trixie wanted to know.

"At first, but then he crashed in the car Pops built for him just as he was about to win his first big race. Pops blew a gasket and told Rex he lacked experience and never wanted him to drive again. Rex got really mad and told Pops he was leaving. He split and we've not seen him since," Speed finished, a downcast expression across his handsome face.

Trixie laid a consoling hand on his arm. "You still really miss him, don't you?"

Speed gazed at her. "Uh-huh. Even more so now that I'm getting ready to drive in my first big race." He smiled sadly and patted her hand. "Now that's enough about me, how about you? Tell me about your family."

"Well, it's not as interesting as yours."

Speed squeezed her hand. "Let me be the judge of that. So go ahead."

"Well, remember I told you that my mother died when I was about 3, almost 4. I can remember before she died vaguely what she was like. She had my hair color and violet eyes."

"She sounds like she was beautiful."

"She was. My father absolutely adored her. They got married right after he came home from the war. Nine months later I came along. But then she started getting weaker and I remember my father having to take her to the hospital all the time 'cause she had a hard time breathing. I even remember them putting her in an iron lung at our house toward the end."

Speed's eyes were soft with sympathy. "You poor kid. That must've been really tough."

Trixie nodded, her eyes clouded. "It was. I even remember the funeral as if it were yesterday. My dad was never the same, sometimes I'd see him hold her picture and cry. Then he'd spot me and paste a smile on his face while he wiped away his tears. He tried so hard to be both mother and father to me, and he was beside himself at times especially when I reached puberty."

"I bet," Speed responded. Having grown up in a family of all boys, he had little exposure to female issues but Pops had explained all he knew about the birds and the bees to him when he reached that pubescent milestone at 13. "So he taught you all about planes and engines."

"Uh-huh. And racing."

Speed was incredulous. "Racing?"

"Yep. Daddy had wanted to race when he was younger but he was drafted. When he came home he married my mother and began his air charter business. He had flown in the war, bombers and helicopters." Trixie replied.

Speed was quiet for a moment as he digested all she had told him. She's really had a hard time of it he told himself. And she's all alone, no family, nobody around. Well, she won't be alone anymore, she's got me now he firmly declared and she'll never be alone again if I have anything to say about it.

"Speed? Are you okay?" Trixie waved her hand before his eyes to get his attention.

He shook his head and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. My mind was somewhere else."

Trixie studied him carefully and she said, "If you say so. But the next time you leave like that, you'd better take your body with you." She giggled at his perplexed expression and then he chuckled as well, lightening the mood.

It was almost midnight when the Mach 5 purred sedately up the driveway near Trixie's cottage on the airfield. The full moon had risen almost to mid sky and the stars glittered in the heavens like miniature diamonds on black velvet. Speed turned off the motor and allowed the soft music of Smokey Robinson and the Miracles play on the tape deck as he turned toward Trixie.

"Trixie, I just wanted to thank you for going out with me. I've never had a better time with a girl," Speed stated ardently, reaching to take her hand. He laced his fingers through hers and then placed his other hand on top, rubbing gently.

Trixie chuckled, "I find that a little hard to believe."

Speed's eyes widened and he declared earnestly. "No really, Trixie, I mean it. You're like no other girl I've ever known. I mean you were such a good sport about those guys at THE Place, letting me show them the car and all after we ate. If it were any other girl I'd have been in the doghouse for sure."

Trixie shrugged delicately. "You have a responsibility to your fans, Speed. It's part of your career. Think nothing of it."

Speed studied her raptly, savoring how she looked in the moonlight. Tentatively, he took his hand and gently brushed a stray curl from her eyes, caressing her cheek and in return, she gazed deeply at him, seeing the reflection of the moon in his shining eyes.

"I'd better get you inside," Speed said softly. "It's getting late." He let go of her hand, opened his door to climb out, made his way to her door, opened it and taking her hand once more, gallantly helped her out.

Unknown to the young couple, they were being closely monitored. A dark sedan, parked approximately five hundred yards away under a copse of trees, which rendered it nearly invisible in spite of the bright moonlight, was standing sentinel. Its driver, also swathed in black, was watching Speed and Trixie's progress through high-powered binoculars. He put them down and picked up a radio microphone, concealed beneath the dashboard. He spoke in a low, guttural growl.

"Slyme Balle to home base. Come in home base."

"This is home base," the radio crackled.

"Boss, she just got home and she ain't alone. You'll never believe who she's got with her."

"It's late, Slyme and I'm in no mood for guessing games."

"Okay Boss, okay. She's with Speed Racer."

Silence. Then the radio came to life. "Are you sure?"

"Yep, they just got out of the Mach 5."

The voice barked over the microphone. "Maintain surveillance on Miss Shimura and report to me in the morning. Out."

The individual known as Slyme Balle replaced the microphone and resumed his task, taking up the binoculars and observing Trixie's cottage intently.

At the cottage, Speed escorted Trixie up the shallow case of stairs to the door and waited as she unlocked it with her keys. She turned to him.

"Speed, thank you for a wonderful day. I had a super time with you in the Mach 5," she said shyly, feeling the same electricity that had existed between them since he handed her wrench to her the other day. The sparks arcing between them were almost visible.

"It was my pleasure. I'll call you tomorrow morning before I come out to the track. Maybe we have lunch or can take in an afternoon movie or something, so good night," he said, reaching to run his fingers gently from her cheek to her chin. Speed turned to leave then hesitated, his eyes wide and boyish, "Ah, Trixie, y-you wouldn't think I was being fresh if I kissed you good night, would you? I mean, I know it's only our first date."

Trixie felt her heart trip hammer in her chest. "No, Speed, I wouldn't."

Speed took her chin in his hand again and drew her lips to his softly, like a butterfly lighting on a rosebud. The soft music from the tape deck in the Mach 5 drifted up and surrounded them, adding to the intensity of the moment. He felt Trixie's lips go soft and pliant and her arms slid slowly up his chest to his broad shoulders as she pressed in closer and the kiss deepened. Speed had to keep himself from pushing for more, but it was oh so hard, the way she fit into his arms it seemed as if she were made for him and only for him. He felt the heat in his body rise as passion washed through him like pounding waves on a seashore. But his respect for her and his own high morals prompted him to gently break away.

"I'm sorry, I guess I just got carried away," he said in a low voice, still husky with emotion.

"It's okay, so did I," she admitted, feeling flushed and turning away so he wouldn't see.

"Then I'd better split before it happens again," Speed said, suddenly feeling very shy. "'Cause if I stick around you any longer trust me, it will. Good night Trix, sweet dreams."

"'Night Speed."

She turned and entered the house and watched him through the screen as he turned and headed down the stairs and to the waiting Mach 5. He jumped into the cockpit, started the engine and backed out to the road. Trixie watched as the white car disappeared like a wraith in the night. She withdrew into the dwelling and closed the door, leaning against the portal, her hand on her lips and a dreamy expression on her face.


	4. Part 4 AN OFFER

Part 4-AN OFFER  
The summer sunlight streamed in through the slats of the venetian blinds that covered Speed's bedroom window and caused his eyes to open as the insistent rays played on his lids. Speed yawned and turned over only to find that the position of the ray reflected on the white of his sheet and made going back to sleep impossible. He yawned again and his as mind began to come back to consciousness it replayed last night's date and good night kiss with Trixie, bringing a lazy grin to his lips in fond remembrance. Man, Speedy, she is like the total package he told himself. A knockout, a great kisser, we like the same music, and she digs cars. She's heaven sent that's for sure! He stretched indolently as he sat up and swung his legs over the bed, pushing off the sheet that had covered him. He stood up, stretching his hands to easily touch the ceiling and then turned and glanced at the clock on his nightstand, right next to the phone. He wondered if 8:00 would be too early to call, if she was awake yet. He grinned as he fantasized about her in her bed and nightgown and pictured her face in repose.  
  
Speed was about to sit back down on his bed and reach for his phone when his bedroom door swung open with a bang. Speed gasped unexpectedly as Spritle launched himself at his older brother at full steam with Chim Chim not far behind.  
  
"Hi Speedy!" the younger Racer cried as he was held at bay by Speed, who had him grasped by his upper arms.  
  
"Hey, squirt, don't cha know how to knock?" Speed complained with a mock scowl. "What's with the wake-up call?" He looked annoyed but there was a telltale twinkle in his cobalt eyes that belied his expression.  
  
"Whaddya mean? You were already awake."  
  
"Never mind. What's up?"  
  
"Speedy, can me and Chim Chim come to the track with you today, huh, can we? Instead of stayin' here this morning, huh?" Spritle pleaded with round cocoa eyes. Chim Chim nodded as well, grasping Speed's arm in supplication.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Speed was drawing a blank.  
  
Spritle fixed Speed with an impatient look. "C'mon Speedy, you didn't forget, did you?"  
  
Speed sighed as his aspired and tentative plans with Trixie seemed to vanish in a puff of smoke as he then remembered that his mother mentioned yesterday to him at breakfast she had a club meeting that morning and Spritle would need watching. She had even gone as far as to ask Pops if he wouldn't mind if Speed came to the track late for practice, which he had agreed to, albeit reluctantly. With his mind still in a pleasant fog from sleep and the date with Trixie, he had totally forgotten. And since he had to practice at the track, he had no choice but to bring Spritle and Chim Chim with him or wait until Mom Racer returned after lunch. By that time, after practice and all the day would be completely shot but determined to see Trixie again, he chose the former scenario.  
  
He said resignedly, "Okay, Spritle, okay. I'll take you to the track with me but I'm tellin' you now, you'd better behave yourself. You know how ticked off Pops gets when you get into trouble and he's busy with that new engine and worried about me racing in Raytona so just watch it." Speed cautioned. "Remember the last time he blew his top at you."  
  
"Uh-huh." Spritle rubbed his buttocks remembering the last time he had incurred Pops' wrath. He had been grounded for a week in addition to receiving a sound spanking and had no desire for a repeat performance. "I'll be good, Speedy, I promise." He held up his two fingers, Cub Scout style and the chimpanzee mimicked him.  
  
"Okay. Now take off, will ya? I gotta make a phone call." Speed turned his attention back to reaching for his phone.  
  
"Hey who ya callin', Speedy? Your girl?"  
  
Speed turned his head and pierced his kid brother with a glare. He pointed his finger to the door and said in a firm tone, "Out, squirt. Now."  
  
Spritle began chanting in a singsong, "Speedy's got a girlfriend! Speedy's got a girlfriend!"  
  
Speed got up to his full height and said loudly. "Okay, that's it! Scram!" He hustled the snickering youngster out and closed the door firmly. He sighed as he heard the muffled sound of his brother's chant as he and Chim Chim scampered downstairs.  
  
Speed glanced at the clock and saw that it was just after 8:30. He sat down again and reached for the phone, dialing Trixie's number. As he waited for it to connect, he grinned as he realized he already had it memorized..  
  
Trixie was lying on her bed, awake but daydreaming as she imagined the way Speed had kissed her last night. He was so sweet in the way he approached her, she felt a delighted feminine tingle from her head to her toes. She had had other relationships but this was the first time she had felt like this on a first date, feeling so completely happy and right; her heart tripping with breathless anticipation for each moment with the coal haired, handsome young racer. She blushed as she remembered his corded arms around her as his firm lips teased at hers.  
  
She was lost in her reverie until the insistent ring of her princess phone brought her to reality. She reached her arm to the nightstand and picked it up.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Good morning, Trix." Speed's soft tenor seemed to caress her over the wire. "Did I wake you?"  
  
"Good morning to you too," Trixie said sweetly. She hastened to reassure him. "Oh no, Speed, I was just being lazy and lying here daydreaming."  
  
"Hmmm. I wonder what you were daydreaming about? Or who? Care to share it?" he teased.  
  
"I was just thinking about last night," Trixie said softly.  
  
"Great minds think alike. I was too." Speed told her. "And I was thinking how we could top it."  
  
"What did you have in mind?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know. A drive-in movie maybe, and something to eat. Or dancing. What did you want to do?"  
  
Trixie shrugged and answered, "I don't care. Just so I can see you again."  
  
Speed felt his heart leap with joy. "Feeling's mutual. So when can I pick you up?"  
  
"Don't you have practice today?" she inquired.  
  
"Yeah, but I'll be free by about 5. I have to watch my kid brother this morning so I'll have him with me at the track."  
  
Trixie asked coyly, "You think I could come and watch you practice this morning?"  
  
Speed was immensely pleased. "Sure, you bet! I'd love it for you to watch me practice for the first time."  
  
"I-I have a confession to make," Trixie said hesitantly.  
  
"What's that?" Speed wanted to know.  
  
"I-I've been watching you practice over there since I moved here. When I wasn't at the hospital with Daddy that is," she admitted ruefully.  
  
Speed chuckled, "Wow and I never even knew it. All this time I had a secret fan. And here I'd been thinking that I saw you first, I guess it's been the other way around, huh?"  
  
Trixie recounted, "Looks that way. Are you disappointed?"  
  
"Are you putting me on? I'm flattered," Speed said with alacrity. He spied the time and said, "Listen, Trix, I gotta get dressed and get to the track so I guess I'll see ya out there, okay? And decide what you want to do tonight, we'll do anything you want."  
  
"Okay, Speed. I'll see you in a bit."  
  
"I'll be looking for you. Bye-bye."  
  
Trixie hung up the phone with a soft smile curving her lips. He is just so adorable and so sweet, who'd have guessed it? She sat up, threw off the sheets, bounded from the bed, selected an outfit from the closet and headed into her bathroom to jump into the shower.  
  
Outside, still under the copse of trees, Slyme Balle continued his perusal of Trixie's cottage, hangar, and airstrip only this time he was snapping pictures, using a camera with a telephoto lens. He took about two rolls of film worth, then started the sedan and crept away.  
  
Trixie came out of the shower, fully dressed and entered her bedroom. She studied her appearance in the mirror critically, making sure that the outfit she chose was just right. After careful consideration she decided that the delft blue capri slacks with a white dotted Swiss crop top with eyelet ruffles was just right. The color of her slacks matched almost exactly the color of Speed's eyes. She smiled in satisfaction, hoping he would notice. She was so excited about seeing him she felt absolutely giddy with sheer happiness, for the first time since the twin ordeals of her father's long illness and passing. Thinking of her father, she went up to her dresser where a 9 X 12 photograph of her and her father was, taken when she was about 10. She picked up the frame and ran her hand across her father's smiling image, her pretty face becoming pensive.  
  
"Oh Daddy, I miss you so much! And I wish you were here with me. I know that you wanted to make sure that I was okay but you know I'll never be like I was with you. But I want you to know, Daddy that I will be fine. And Daddy, I met our neighbor, Speed Racer. He's so nice Daddy, I wish you could meet him. I know the day we moved in here, you saw him driving around the track and you mentioned that he was talented as a racer, like you had wanted to be, only the war interrupted and then I was born. I know you'd like him if you met him Daddy because I like him so much. And he likes me. He came over especially the other day, just to meet me. We only went out once but already he calls me his girl. And he makes me feel so special, Daddy, like you told me Mom had made you feel, I'm so happy when I'm with him. Oh Daddy, please know that I'm missing you but I'm feeling really happy for the first time since you died so rest in peace, your little girl is fine.  
  
The princess phone ringing again interrupted her silent soliloquy and she hurried over to answer it.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Miss Shimura? This is Wiley, have you thought about what we spoke about yesterday?"  
  
Trixie shuddered involuntarily and answered, "Not really sir, I told you that I needed some time in deciding what to do."  
  
"Yes, Miss Shimura but I do feel it is of the utmost importance that we meet to discuss this. Are you free this morning?"  
  
"No sir, I am not."  
  
"This afternoon then?" The man was extremely persistent, almost to the point of being harassing.  
  
Trixie sighed, giving up. "All right, Mr. Wiley. Where would you like to meet?"  
  
"Are you familiar with La Faccia Bella restaurant?" the man asked.  
  
Trixie replied, "Down off the center square? Yes, I am."  
  
"Meet me there at 1:30 sharp," the man requested. "And please, don't be late." He abruptly hung up before she could answer.  
  
Trixie sighed in irritation. This man, whoever he is, and whatever he wanted, was proving to be relentless, he just wouldn't let up. She shook her head and left her room and home, jumped in her Mercedes convertible and headed to the track.  
  
Speed, Spritle and Chim Chim arrived at the garage at about 10:15 and pulled into the open area behind the track. Speed turned off the motor and extricated himself from the cockpit while Spritle and Chin Chim exited the Mach 5 with abandon to race about.  
  
"Hey Spritle, remember what I said," Speed called out to the departing pair as Sparky and Pops came in carrying some blueprints. They strode over to a drafting table with a fluorescent light hanging over, spilling a bright light on the plans for a brand new engine. Speed joined them at the table.  
  
"So this is the new baby, huh Pops?" Speed remarked making an appreciative whistle. "She sure is a honey."  
  
Pops awarded his son with one of his rare but genuine smiles. "That she is, son. She's the most advanced, most powerful engine I've ever designed. As soon as she's built, I intend to put her in the Mach 5."  
  
Speed whispered in awe. "With the way this thing looks, when you do that, nobody will catch me."  
  
Sparky grinned, "I'll have to take a few more courses at the university in electrical and aero engineering to bone up on the works of this thing to repair her. But looking at her, she's well worth it."  
  
Pops added, "I'm almost finished with the prototype. Me and Sparky will then put her through her paces, then we'll build the one for the Mach 5." He was so proud, he sounded like he was talking about another offspring with his chest puffed out like a strutting rooster.  
  
Speed grinned widely at his father. Since leaving his former job and striking out on his own, Pops had worked nearly 24 hours a day, planning the design of engines that were the cream of high performance power. He was also busy hiring the cream of the crop of the graduating class of designers, engineers, and motormen out of the university and working hands on with them to make Pops Motors one of the best known names in the business. But it had been a Herculean task and had taken most all of Pops' life savings. He often was up nights worrying about the costs and when Speed began showing raw natural talent in racing, he fretted as how he'd keep up with the staggering cost of racing. That was another reason he had balked at his middle son's choice of career. But Speed's talent was undeniable, to waste it would have been akin to a crime and he would have driven his middle son, like his oldest son, away.  
  
Pops and Sparky were discussing the ultra turbocharger with Speed when the latter's attention was drawn away by the sound of an approaching car. As the shiny yellow Mercedes convertible pulled up to the open area and parked by the Mach 5, Speed's face broke into a broad, pleased smile. He hastily made his excuses to Pops and Sparky and rushed over to the yellow car where a sunlit chestnut haired beauty sat behind the wheel.  
  
"Who's that?" Pops wanted to know. Although happily married for almost 30 years, Pops still had an eye for a pretty face.  
  
Sparky replied, "I think that's the infamous Trixie."  
  
Pops grunted, "There goes the morning practice."  
  
Sparky tried to hide a knowing smirk and turned his attention back to the plans.  
  
Speed strode over to the driver's side of the convertible. "Hi, Trix. I'm so glad you could make it." he said, making no attempt to conceal his pleasure. His eyes were fairly dancing, like a sparkling lake in the sun. He took note of the car and whistled in appreciation. "What a boss set of wheels!"  
  
"Thanks." Trixie removed her sunglasses and gazed fondly at him. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world. So when are you going to practice?"  
  
"Soon. But first I want you to meet Sparky and Pops. C'mon." He opened her door and took her hand as his eyes widened admiringly at her appearance. "Boy, you really look groovy today."  
  
She smiled at him, "I'm glad you like it."  
  
Still holding her hand, Speed led Trixie to the garage where he performed the introductions. He put his hand gently on the small of her back and brought her forward.  
  
"Pops, Sparky, this is Trixie Shimura. She runs a charter air service from the airfield next door. Trixie, this is my father, Pops Racer and my best friend and crew chief, Sparky Sabu."  
  
Trixie shook hands with Pops first. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Racer, " she said in a soft, ladylike voice.  
  
Pops had a slight feeling of familiarity, like he had seen Trixie somewhere before but he dismissed it. He was however, taken back by the genuine friendliness that radiated from her spring meadow eyes like sunshine. He could now understand his son's infatuation, this was a young lady that he felt an immediate liking for. He took her delicate hand in his huge paw.  
  
"The pleasure's all mine, but please call me Pops," he said with a rare grin.  
  
Sparky then grabbed her hand and pumped it energetically. "Likewise. We've heard so much about you, its finally good to meet you."  
  
Trixie smiled, liking both men at once. "I've heard a few things about you too," she responded.  
  
Introductions completed, Speed was showing her around the garage when a blur came around the corner and almost collided head on with the young couple. Speed was nearly knocked off his feet as the youngest Racer child made contact with his brother's knees. Recovering from the shock, Speed grabbed his brother by his arms and glared at him eye to eye.  
  
"Spritle! What the heck is the matter with you? You almost knocked me down and you could've hurt yourself," Speed scolded, more concerned than angry with his kid brother.  
  
Spritle gazed at his brother with wide eyes of feigned innocence alight with mischief. "I'm sorry, Speedy. I didn't mean to. I was running away from Chim Chim."  
  
"Where is Chim Chim?" Speed asked and was immediately waylaid, actually falling on his back this time by a chattering bundle of hair with arms screeching in simian laughter.  
  
Trixie couldn't help but giggle musically at the comical picture, which brought a red flush of embarrassment to Speed's cheeks. Spritle looked up at her and then his attention was immediately drawn to Sparky and Pops who having heard the commotion, came running over to see the ensuing melee.  
  
"What in Sam Hill is going on here?" Pops bellowed as he spotted his middle son on the cement with a large chimp straddling his torso and his youngest son on his knees nearby. "Spritle, get that ape off of your brother! Now!"  
  
"Yes, Pops. Chim Chim get offa Speed now!" Spritle grabbed Chim Chim by the suspenders of his coveralls pulling the monkey off. Speed got to his feet, breathing heavily and cast a jaundiced eye at his brother.  
  
"Spritle," he began in a warning tone clutching the youngster's arm then remembering that he wanted to put his best foot forward in front of the newly found girl of his dreams, took a deep breath and let his irritation drain away.  
  
Pops decided to take over in meting out discipline. "Spritle, you and that ape stop running around here right now! This isn't a playground and your brother isn't a tackling dummy!" Pops took his youngest son aside none too gently and squatted down to eyeball him. "You made a promise to behave and you'd better stick to it if you know what's good for you or you won't be allowed out here at the track anymore."  
  
Properly chastised, Spritle nodded meekly. "Yes, Pops."  
  
Pops got to his full height and worriedly checked his middle son. "You okay, Speed?"  
  
Speed nodded with a chuckle. Now that he was on his feet and his dignity returned, he was fine. "Yeah, Pops, I'm okay." He glanced at Trixie with a sheepish grin. "Some first impression, huh?"  
  
"Interesting. Are you sure you're okay?" She examined him closely, concerned.  
  
Speed looked at her and assured, "Yeah, I'm fine. I've learned a long time ago how to survive life in the Racer family."  
  
Trixie smiled sweetly at him. "I think you have a terrific family."  
  
"Well, can't I meet her too, Speed?" Spritle demanded, planting himself right before his brother and Trixie, hands on his hips in indignation.  
  
Speed laughed, "Sure, Spritle, I was saving the best for last. Trixie, this is my kid brother, Spritle Racer."  
  
Spritle offered his hand to Trixie in his best grown-up manner, which she took. "Hi Trixie, it's nice to meet ya. Boy, you're pretty!" he said in awe, his cocoa eyes wide as saucers. "Don't cha think so, Speedy?"  
  
Speed gazed at Trixie with twinkling eyes. "You'd better believe it, squirt." He squeezed her hand and Trixie gave a pleased smile as she was held captive by his ocean blue eyes.  
  
The spell was broken by Pops who cleared his throat loudly. "Ahem! Speed, you need to get on the track, it's almost 11." He turned to Trixie and said cordially, "If you'd like to watch Speed practice, come on out with me and I'll show you where you can sit." He took her elbow and steered her over to the starting line sidelines before Speed could say anything. He sighed resignedly, shrugged and headed over to the Mach 5 to start his laps.  
  
Speed was barreling around the far turn, utterly enthralled. The Mach 5 was cornering like it was on rails, and flying down the backstretch neither loose nor tight, balanced, handling the best it had ever done. Speed glanced at his speedometer and noticed that the last lap had been his fastest so far. He idly wondered if having Trixie on the track sideline watching him had anything to do with it. He wanted to really impress her and had to force himself to keep his eyes and mind on the track and not give in to the overpowering urge to see her reaction and if she was indeed impressed. Between Trixie being there at the track watching and the stellar performance of the Mach 5, he was totally pumped.  
  
Speed rounded the track, pushing the Mach 5 to a higher RPM and she continued to respond in admirable fashion, staying to the inside line for maximum benefit of centrifugal push. He had no other car to draft him or offer aeropush so he drew every bit of horsepower to keep his speeds up. The powerful engine roared in approval as he rounded turn 3, even as he eased up to make the turn. The way Speed drove showcased his uncanny natural talent for the car was making laps almost effortlessly.  
  
Sparky leaned into Pops and commented. "The kid's on fire."  
  
"Yep, that's my boy," Pops replied, the fatherly pride evident in his voice. "He's a Racer all right." Trixie had made her way over to the two men. Pops turned to her and asked, "Well, Trixie, what do you think, huh?"  
  
"I think he's outtasight," she replied with more than a bit of awe. "And a terrific racer as well."  
  
Pops chuckled to himself as he realized that it looked like his middle child was about to experience true love for the first time. He was remembering that he had acted the same way Speed was acting and that he had felt the same way when he met his wife. And he, having met Trixie at last, heartily approved. He turned and headed for the open area, calling for Spritle and Chim Chim to take them home for lunch.  
  
She approached Sparky. "Looks like he's got a pretty good setup today. How's the round, it looks like he's handling the turns without much effort," she stated matter-of-factly.  
  
Sparky did a double take. He gazed at Trixie in amazement. "Huh? How'd you figure?"  
  
Trixie eyed him dubiously. "I can see how his camber is going into the turns. Can't you?"  
  
"Yeah I can. But what I can't see is how a girl knows racing terms."  
  
Trixie bristled a bit. "Sparky, for your information, my dad taught me racing terms. When he was younger, he was interested in racing but he had been called to go to war."  
  
Sparky blushed as he apologized, "Gee, Trixie I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just surprised and impressed, that's all. I mean to hear a girl, who knows about racing and all, well," he stuttered, feeling a bit flustered.  
  
Trixie gave him a reassuring smile. "Relax, Sparky, I'm used to it. Most guys have a hard time dealing with a girl who knows racing."  
  
The Mach 5 rumbled up to the sideline, having completed the session. Speed removed his helmet, vaulted over the side and landed right beside Trixie. He took note of the somewhat involved conversation that he had interrupted and glanced at the two quizzically. "Hey, what's goin' on?"  
  
Sparky looked at his buddy sheepishly and was about to say something but Trixie intervened. "Sparky and I were discussing your setup. Looks like everything was neutral out there," she said.  
  
Speed grinned at her. "Yeah, she was great out there. I stayed with the low line and hit a fantastic groove." He took her hand and squeezed it then turned to Sparky. "Looks like we've a winning setup, Spark. We'll have to see how she does later when the track temp goes down."  
  
"Yeah," Sparky said, having gotten over his initial shock over the track savvy of Speed's new girlfriend. He consulted his watch. "It just after one. Let's take an hour lunch break and meet back here at 2:30."  
  
Speed turned to Trixie, "How about some lunch, Trix? I know a groovy place that's not too far, okay?" Still holding her hand, he began to lead her to the passenger door of the Mach 5.  
  
Trixie stopped, remembering the meeting she had to attend with the mysterious Mr. Wiley. "I-I can't, Speed. I have an appointment at 1:30 and I have to leave now." She extricated herself from his grasp and headed to the garage. "I'll see you later," she called as she hurried out to her car leaving Speed momentarily surprised.  
  
"Hey, Trix, where--" he began to call but she gunned the yellow convertible out of the garage area and took off before he could finish his question. Disappointed, he turned to Sparky with a frown and asked, "Man, what was that? She told me she wanted to watch me at the track today."  
  
"Beats me. Maybe it's a hairdresser's appointment. You know women."  
  
"Yeah," Speed said, still staring in the direction that he saw Trixie leave. "Yeah, I guess you're right. So let's go grab some lunch." He motioned to Sparky to get into the Mach 5 as he climbed behind the wheel, started the engine and pulled out of the track area.  
  
La Faccia Bella was a small but well-known restaurant, centrally located to the business district of town and a popular lunch place for the work force but the lunch rush is usually concluded by one so by 1:30 it was nearly deserted, save a few business men. This was the case as Trixie pulled into a parking place and scurried to the entrance.  
  
Once inside, she glanced about, not really knowing for who she was looking. After all, she had never met the man, only spoke to him on the phone. The maitre'd approached her.  
  
"Excuse me, Miss, are you Trixie Shimura?"  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"Follow, me, please." The maitre'd led her to the very rear of the restaurant, by the restrooms where a fairly secluded booth was located. An average sized masculine form was there, swathed in a dark cloak up to his face that in spite of the fact that the restaurant was air conditioned, was quite inappropriate for the midsummer heat. Dark sunglasses completed the picture. He gestured to Trixie.  
  
"Please be seated, Miss Shimura. Are you hungry?" He gestured for a waiter to come over.  
  
Trixie slid into the booth and peered at her luncheon companion. He appeared to be an older man near 50, and content to keep his identity a secret. A waiter came up to them with an inquiring look.  
  
"Not really. Just a Coke will do."  
  
The waiter who had come took her order and then disappeared. Mr. Wiley had a simple glass of ice water before him.  
  
Trixie sighed, "Mr. Wiley, what is it that you want to discuss with me that couldn't wait?"  
  
The waiter returned with her Coke and left. Trixie took a sip as she waited. Wiley got right to the point.  
  
"Miss Shimura, I'd like to hire you as a pilot for my company."  
  
Trixie's eyes widened incredulously. "You'd like to hire me?"  
  
Wiley nodded, "I understand you have both a Cessna and a helicopter. I have a need for a pilot to fly both for my auto racing team."  
  
Auto racing! What a coincidence! Or was it? "Excuse me Mr. Wiley but why would you have need for a pilot for your auto racing team?"  
  
"Because, Miss Shimura, I believe a pilot can give my drivers a needed edge during a race. And I can pay you quite well in addition to paying for fuel and maintenance. I understand now that your father has passed away, you'll need the income I can supply to pay your father's hospital bills."  
  
Trixie quashed a rising feeling of unease. "How exactly do you know about my father's hospital bills?" she asked sharply, disliking the man's apparent smugness.  
  
"Let's just say I have my sources."  
  
She was momentarily speechless.  
  
Meanwhile, driving down Main Street, Speed and Sparky were in the Mach 5, in a bit of a debate  
  
"Why couldn't we grab a bite closer to the track?" Sparky complained, thinking about Pops' reaction if he returned to the track and found everyone gone. It was after two.  
  
"We tried. Can I help it if the place closest to the track was closed? Anyway, the food's better in here." Speed gestured to La Faccia Bella. He turned into the side parking lot and slammed on the brakes, sending Sparky forward.  
  
"Hey Speed, what's the big idea?" Sparky barked as he glared at his friend. Speed was frozen, staring ahead at something like he was hypnotized. Sparky turned his attention to the front and not seeing anything out of the ordinary inquired, "You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
"The car right in front. It's Trixie's," Speed replied, stunned. He pointed to the yellow Mercedes convertible parked dead ahead.  
  
Sparky laughed, "Man, you've really got it bad for this girl. That could be anybody's car, there's more than one yellow Mercedes convertible in the world."  
  
"Sparky, that's Trixie's car. I recognize the license plate." Speed was insistent.  
  
"You have only known her for a grand total of 48 hours and you already know the girl's license plate number? Man, you're dead in the water, she's got you hook, line and sinker and all she has to do is reel you in."  
  
Speed didn't answer. He just stared with a thoughtful but dark frown marring his sculptured features. "So she's got a lunch date," he said in dismay, jealousy rising inside him like bile. "She should've told me." In a fit of anger, he wheeled the Mach 5 around and gunned it away and out of the restaurant parking lot.  
  
Sparky hung on to the dashboard. "Hey Speed, take it easy. We're not on the track now, for crying out loud! The last thing you need is a ticket," the mechanic reminded him as Speed accelerated down Main Street.  
  
Speed grunted in response, his thoughts running wild. No wonder she was dressed so cute he said to himself glumly. His mind was spinning with possible reasons as to why Trixie would have been so secretive about her appointment. He desperately wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt but could not assuage his hurt feelings that she didn't trust him enough to let him know she had other plans. But as he thought about it more reasonably, he began to realize that he actually had no right to be so incensed, he had only just begun to see her. He sighed and slowed his speed to a sedate 35 mph, a cooler head prevailing. He glanced at Sparky apologetically.  
  
"I'm sorry, Spark, I lost my head. We'll find somewhere else to eat."  
  
"Forget it, Speed. I lost my appetite. Let's just head back to the track," Sparky said crisply.  
  
"Yeah," Speed said sullenly. It was the last word spoken between them until they reached the track.  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Wiley but I have to say no. I really have no interest in doing the things that the job requires," Trixie stated emphatically. "I won't help your team win races dishonestly."  
  
Wiley said nothing for a long while. Then he spoke, "That's your final word?"  
  
"Yes, I'm afraid it is."  
  
"Then our business is finished." He snapped his finger for the waiter to bring the check. "Good afternoon," he said abruptly as he left a dollar with the check and strode away, leaving a very perplexed Trixie behind. 


	5. Part 5 TROUBLE COMES KNOCKING

Part 5-TROUBLE COMES KNOCKING  
  
Later, at the Pops Motors test track, Speed was doing his laps and trying to still get over his pique at Trixie's apparent deception. He was wracking his brain to trying figure out who it was that she could have been having lunch with. She certainly hadn't led him to believe that she knew anybody else in town or maybe he was too naive or arrogant to believe she didn't. She certainly was pretty enough that guys would be pursuing her but she never spoke of anyone special to him. Granted, they had only gone out once but the way they shared everything yesterday, talking non-stop she hadn't said a thing about any other guys. Surely she knew he wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with her or else what was that kiss last night all about? She sure didn't seem the type of girl to keep two guys on the line. So if she was already seeing someone else, why hadn't she said so? And if she weren't seeing anyone, who'd be double-crossing him? Speed brooded over these and other questions as he made his laps, a dark scowl on his face. Whoever he is, if he's bird-dogging me, when I find him, I'll knock him right on his ass Speed promised himself grimly as he gripped the wheel tighter.  
  
He wasn't one to go looking for trouble but if provoked, he never backed down from a challenge and if some guy was trying to muscle in on Trixie, look out. Another legacy that Rex had left him was to teach him to be a superior fighter. Ever since Speed was out of his diapers, Rex had shown him to land punches to defend himself or to gain the upper edge and at that tender age, Speed quickly caught on, showing ability to fell the biggest antagonist on any playground with a wicked right cross. As a former professional wrestler, Pops had also taught his boys wrestling moves and blows. With all this early training as Speed matured, he built up his endurance, arms and upper body strength sufficiently for the sports he had been involved in. And as his interest in racing grew, his top physical condition also prepared him for the grueling hours behind the wheel and it served him well in any fight.  
  
The Mach 5 roared up to the finish line where Sparky met him with the stopwatch and clipboard in hand and a dubious expression on his face. He shook his head.  
  
"Your times were off by at least three tenths, Speed. Good thing Pops ain't here or he'd chew you out good. What gives?"  
  
Speed hoisted himself up and swung his legs over the side of the car. "Just get off my back, willya, Spark," he said dourly as he turned and focused his attention on the airfield next door.  
  
Sparky sighed and discarded the watch and clipboard. He clapped his best friend on the back.  
  
"Look, pal, she probably had lunch with a girl friend and forgot to tell you. And she was running late so she split. That's all," he said reasonably.  
  
"So why didn't she just come out and tell me, huh? Sorry, but I'm having a hard time buying that," Speed snapped, his hurt and anger evident.  
  
Sparky got right in front of Speed to look at him eye to eye. "Look, Speed, maybe her brain's as scrambled about you as yours is about her and she forgot. C'mon now, admit it, you've got your head in the clouds over this girl and you aren't thinking straight but face it, you've only known her for two days and gone out with her once."  
  
Speed glared at his friend, a retort forming on his lips then his expression softened as he grudgingly admitted, "You're right, Sparky, but I can't help it. I've never felt like this for any girl before and as you know, I've gone out with quite a few girls." He studied the cottage to the left of the hangar, the yellow convertible nowhere to be seen, and sighed heavily as he turned away.  
  
Trixie pulled up the driveway of her cottage at about 4:30. After the strange lunch with the even stranger Mr. Wiley, she had decided to take a drive to mull over the preposition he had presented to her. It was unthinkable that this man wanted her to use her aircraft to give his drivers unfair and illegal advantages in the coming races. She couldn't, she wouldn't do anything that was against the rules of the racing association or against the law. Her father had told her, when they moved there, that if they agreed to charter out to any racers, that they would adhere strictly to the rules without any fail. She had agreed with him wholeheartedly at the time and that had not changed.  
  
Outside in the dark sedan, Slyme Balle was continuing in his surveillance of Trixie's cottage when the radio squawked for his attention  
  
"Home base to Slyme Balle, Come in."  
  
Slyme picked up the mike. "Slyme here."  
  
"Phase 1 has failed. On to Phase 2. Did she get home yet?"  
  
"She just pulled in."  
  
"You know what to do."  
  
"Roger."  
  
Slyme replaced the mike and checking his pocket reached for the door handle to open the door. He crept almost leisurely to the cottage, his lips curved in a nasty smile.  
  
Over at the track, Speed and Sparky were puttering under the hood of the Mach 5, making adjustments. They came up from the engine simultaneously and closed the hood firmly.  
  
"Well, Speed, she's about as good as she's gonna get," Sparky said, wiping the grease from his hands with a rag. He sighed in satisfaction as he patted the hood. He glanced at his friend who was staring off in the direction of the airfield next door.  
  
"Hey Speed!" No response. "Earth to Speed, come in Speed!" Sparky called, Mission Control style.  
  
Speed whirled around. "Huh? You talking to me, Sparky?"  
  
Sparky retorted, "If only I could. You haven't heard a word I've said for the last hour." He drew up to Speed's side and said, "Why don't you give her a call, now that she's home."  
  
Speed shook his head vigorously. "No, not now. I'll do some more laps. Try to better my time." He started over to get into the Mach 5 but Sparky detained him.  
  
"Never mind the laps, Speed. Your head ain't into your driving now, not while you're all hot and bothered about Trixie. You need to get over to her and talk, get everything out."  
  
"Yeah, Sparky, you're right. I need to prepare for that race in two weeks and I won't be worth a damn unless I know definitely where I stand with her." He clapped his hand on his buddy's shoulder in appreciation. "Thanks for everything and especially for putting up with me this afternoon."  
  
"Hey man, what are friends for?"  
  
At her home Trixie was in the kitchen, washing some leftover dishes from the day before when her doorbell rang. Curious as to who it could be, she hurriedly wiped her hands on a dishtowel and headed to the door to answer. A tall man with sandy colored hair and piercing gray eyes smiled politely.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Trixie Shimura?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I have something very important to discuss with you. May I come in?"  
  
Trixie hesitated but something in his eyes made her decide differently. "Okay." She opened the door and the man stepped inside.  
  
Trixie looked at him curiously. "And what can I do to help y--" she began but was cut off as she was suddenly grabbed from behind and a knife held to her side. She became terrified, her eyes wide sea green pools.  
  
"Now you listen to me, little lady. You're gonna listen very carefully and when I'm finished you and me are gonna have an understanding, okay?" he hissed in a soft, dangerous tone. "Because if you don't, it'll take very little for me to cut you up in ribbons."  
  
Trixie's heart pounded with fear as she frantically struggled, thinking of how she could escape. Her captor must have noticed because he twisted the edge of the knife against her side ever so slightly so that the razor edge broke skin and she could feel the warm trickle of blood.  
  
Her tormenter laughed as he felt the blood and said, "My apologies. I hadn't meant to make you bleed, at least not yet." He pulled her to the sofa, tossing some cartons aside pushed her down then turned around to don a pair of gloves.  
  
As he turned his back, ignoring her injury Trixie took her chance and reached for the closest thing to hurl at him which was the vase with Speed's roses. Slyme's reflexes were quicker and he intercepted the projectile then tossed it carelessly on the floor, smashing the roses and shattering the vase into a million pieces leaving an explosion of glass and ivory petals. Cursing, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gagged her then grabbed her by the shoulders and jumping on top of her, straddled her, holding her wrists above her head in an iron grip.  
  
The phone began to ring but Slyme kept his grip, like he didn't even hear it. With the gag in her mouth, Trixie whimpered in pain, horrified, wondering what the man was going to do to her next.  
  
Slyme gazed evilly into Trixie's frightened eyes. This was the part of his job he truly relished, making sure his victims knew that he had complete control over them...  
  
At the garage, Speed had just exited the restroom, brushing his hair back and preening before picking up the phone and dialing Trixie's number. He listened as the phone rang and rang without an answer. Perplexed, he went to the garage opening and glanced at her cottage to make sure she was home. The yellow convertible was still parked in the driveway and he could see a light in her living room window making it clear that she was indeed home. Frowning, he reluctantly hung up the phone, an uneasy chill gripping his spine. Speed couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was very, very, wrong.  
  
He sprinted to the Mach 5 as Sparky emerged from underneath and leaped in. He turned the key and revved the engine.  
  
"Hey, Speed, what gives?" Sparky asked as he saw his buddy's frightened face.  
  
"Sparky, I think Trixie's in trouble. I gotta go." He shifted gears.  
  
"Well, let me go with you. If there's trouble, two pairs of fists are better than one." Sparky leaped into the passenger seat just as Speed gunned the Mach 5 out of the garage, tearing out to the road.  
  
Slyme Balle had been enjoying tormenting Trixie, describing to her the vile things he planned to do if she didn't cooperate. With each description, he got more and more pleasure out of seeing her squirm, her eyes big as saucers.  
  
"You know, you are a pretty little thing. I bet we could have a lot of fun." Slyme intimated, his hand stroking Trixie's cheek. "The boss wouldn't mind if I had some fun with you before convincing you to change your mind."  
  
Trixie renewed her struggles frantically at his dire implications. She drove her knees up and made solid contact with Slyme's back, knocking him of balance. His eyes flashed with rage as he yanked her off the sofa and to her feet.  
  
"Okay, gametime's over. Now you listen to me. Mr. Wiley has given you an opportunity to be a very wealthy young lady by joining our racing team. And you gave Mr. Wiley an answer that he's very, very unhappy with. Now, I'm sure you can rethink your answer and change your mind now, can't you?" Slyme was taunting Trixie, holding both hands now with one of his and caressing her cheek as she shuddered in revulsion. He chuckled, amused by her terror. He untied the gag and snarled, "You best not scream if you know what's good for you. Now, what's your answer?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Wrong answer!" Slyme drew his free hand back and slapped Trixie across her face, causing her lip to bleed. She continued to try to break free but Slyme hauled off and slapped her again, causing her to cry out and sending her sprawling over some cartons. He laughed and went to lean over her...  
  
Speed and Sparky pulled up to the side of Trixie's cottage, cutting the motor and jumping out. Sparky grabbed a hold of Speed's arm and whispered, "What if she's just in the shower and we've just jumped to the mother of all conclusions?"  
  
Speed replied, "Then I'm gonna feel like a Class A jerk but at least I'll know she's okay. Let's move."  
  
They crept stealthily along the side of the small dwelling. As they passed the open living room window, they halted when they heard a deep masculine voice, murmuring too low to discern what was being said.  
  
Sparky exclaimed, "Hey, she's in there with some guy! Maybe busting in now isn't the best thing to do."  
  
Scowling, Speed held his finger to his lips. "Pipe down, willya?" His stomach churned with a mixture of uncertainty and growing jealousy. Suppose Sparky was right? Then I'll really feel like a Class A jerk.  
  
His brooding thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable report of a slap followed by a feminine shriek and the thump of a body making contact with the floor.  
  
Mobilized and needing no further proof, Speed turned to Sparky and growled fiercely, "Let's go! Now!"  
  
They raced up the stairs taking two at a time. Speed wrenched open the door and burst in on the ensuing struggle. Finding Slyme Balle crouched over the supine form of his helpless girlfriend, he became enveloped in a red haze of fury, his eyes narrowed to sapphire slits. He vaulted over an easy chair and pounced on Slyme, grabbing him and turning him in one action. Speed then slammed his right fist in Slyme's belly and countered with a vicious left that sent the man flying back and into an end table. His face contorted in rage, Speed picked up the would-be assailant and began squeezing his throat in a wrestling hold, slowly, inexorably ceasing the man's ability to live.  
  
Sparky inserted himself between the two and pushed Speed away. "Easy, Speed, you're gonna kill him! You're killing him! Let's just tie him up and call the fuzz."  
  
Speed paid no mind, the sound of Slyme striking Trixie and the vision of his crouching over her, drove him relentlessly to exterminate this insect and had him in a bizarre type of tunnel vision that made him oblivious to everything else. A small sobbing whimper from the back of the room snapped him back to the present and Speed tossed the now unconscious Slyme aside like a rag doll as he rushed to Trixie's side.  
  
"Trixie! Are you okay, baby? What did that bastard do to you?"  
  
Trixie's eyes filled with tears and she flung herself into Speed's arms. "Oh Speed, I'm so glad you're here!"  
  
"Shhh. It's okay, baby, it's all over now," Speed crooned as he held her, both arms wrapped tightly around, against his chest. His fingers came in contact with the dried blood on her side where the knife had sliced and alarmed he asked. "Did he do this to you, Trix?"  
  
"Uhh-huh. He threatened to do worse till you came. Oh Speed, I was so scared!"  
  
"Who is he, honey?" Speed asked gently. Sparky, after he tied up the unconscious henchman, knelt beside her as well, eyes riveted to her.  
  
"H-he works for a man named Wiley that wanted to hire me as a pilot. He's who I had the appointment with today when I left the track. He called me and insisted to meet me to discuss it."  
  
"What'd he want to hire you for?" Speed wanted to know.  
  
Trixie sniffled, "He wanted me to be part of his racing team by carrying out duties to sabotage other racers during races. He wanted me to fly ahead, change road directions, booby trap roads, you name it."  
  
Speed nodded, "And you refused."  
  
"Yes. He even tried to get me to agree using my father's hospital bills as a reason to force me. He knew that I'm in financial difficulties and am trying to make some major decisions so I can pay the bills."  
  
Speed glanced at Sparky. "I think we'd better call Inspector Detector," he said grimly.  
  
Sparky nodded in agreement. "I'll buzz him right now." He got up and went to the phone. After a short conversation, he informed Speed, "He's on his way with a squad car."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Speed?" Trixie asked in a small voice.  
  
Speed turned his attention back to her. "What, baby?"  
  
"I-I'm sorry I smashed your roses." She pointed to the shards of blue glass and white rose petals with bare stems that were splattered on the floor. "I tried to hit him with the vase and missed."  
  
Speed smiled gently. "That's okay, Trix. I promise I'll bring you some more." His smile faded as he saw the swelling of her cheek and the blood seeping from her side. "C'mon, honey."  
  
He got to his feet and helped Trixie up. "I think we'd better get you to the hospital and get your side looked at." He glared at Slyme who was coming to and groggy, trussed up on a hard-backed chair, courtesy of Sparky. He gently touched the growing bruise on her cheek. "He really used you like a punching bag, didn't he? I should've killed him," he muttered darkly.  
  
"I'm okay, Speed, really. You don't have to fuss--" Trixie said but Speed cut her off.  
  
"Nothing doing. I'm taking you to the hospital. Now." He firmly led her to the door and said to Sparky over his shoulder, "Spark, stick around here and wait for the Inspector, willya? He can meet me at National Hospital if he wants to talk to us. And call Pops and let him know what's going on." With his arm protectively around Trixie, Speed opened the door and led her out to the Mach 5. 


	6. Part 6 AT THE HOSPITAL

Part 6-AT THE HOSPITAL 

Speed paced in the waiting room of the ER of National Hospital for the umpteenth time, worry furrowing his brow as he tried not to watch the minutes, then hours tick by. When he had carried Trixie in, she was barely conscious and her wound had begun bleeding again, further staining the eyelet lace of her blouse, and turning the white to dark crimson. The blood on her side had frightened him more than anything ever did before in his life because it seemed like it didn't want to stop flowing out of her. He had raced in the Mach 5 to the hospital like he was on the track, all the time talking softly to her to keep her conscious because having lost quite a bit of blood she had appeared in a daze, but not quite in shock. Her face bore a mottled hue of purplish blue swollen bruise where Slyme had hit her and there was dried blood on her lip. Speed had to quash his fury at the sight so he wouldn't upset her any worse than she was already but he was livid at her being so abused. It made him want to go back to her place just so he could finish off the scum. As he thought about Slyme again he noticed his hands had balled into tight fists and he ached to put one of those fists through the wall in abject frustration.

Speed continued to pace nervously when the door to the ER waiting area opened and Pops strode in. He rushed up to his son.

"Speed, I came as soon as I heard. How is she?"

"Doctor's in with her now. He's been in there for about an hour and a half," Speed said dully, his face wan and his eyes bleak.

Pops clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, son, he'll take good care of her. Thank goodness you got there when you did."

Speed snorted and turned away abruptly. "That animal wanted to kill her. I swear if I could go back in time I'd finish what I started. I should've ended his miserable life when I had the chance," he growled.

"I know you want to, son but calling the Inspector was the best thing. He'll put the creep behind bars, where he belongs."

"Yeah, sure, Pops. But what if the guy gets off and tries to get to her again and I'm not there to stop him?" Speed closed his eyes, the thought too gut wrenching to consider.

Pops sighed and patted his son on the back to offer solace while they waited. After what seemed like forever, the door to the ER swung open and Dr. Casey Kildare, the emergency room senior physician stepped out and addressed the waiting men.

"Are you gentlemen Trixie Shimura's family?"

Speed opened his mouth but Pops answered for him. "Yes, we are, Doctor. How is she?"

The doctor was a severe looking man who was coolly professional. "Lucky. If that assailant had gone any deeper, she'd be in surgery now with a punctured lung." At those words, Speed felt his blood run cold. "But she just needed stitches and some blood. We're going to keep her overnight for observation, just to be safe."

"Can we see her?" Speed asked anxiously.

The doctor nodded. "She's been admitted to room W214. They're just getting her settled so give them about twenty minutes. Excuse me." He turned and went back through the ER door.

Pops took Speed aside and guided him to a chair. Speed was dazed, like he was in a trance, staring blankly into space, the doctor's words ringing in his head. She could've lost a lung! That SOB, if I ever see him again I'll kill him with my bare hands.

The glass door that was the entrance to the emergency room opened and Interpol police Inspector Detector strode in and approached the Racer men. He was a tall, barrel-chested, bearded man who fit the profile of the quintessential career police officer, with strong serious features and a stern manner that hid a warm heart underneath. He stopped before Speed.

"Speed, Sparky filled me in on the basic story. So now you tell me, what happened?"

Speed cast his eyes at the Interpol inspector. "As far as I know, my girlfriend Trixie was attacked by that reptile we had tied up at her place," he said flatly. "I busted in after I heard someone getting hit and her scream. He was crouched over her so I grabbed him and tried to waste him."

The inspector nodded. "You put quite a beating on him. He's been admitted to the police ward here. He's got a couple of broken ribs and a fractured jaw, as well as a bruised collarbone."

"Who cares? Wait till you see what the bastard did to Trixie. I'm sorry I didn't kill him," Speed muttered, arms folded obstinately, totally indifferent.

"Speed," his father warned but Speed was furious and beyond caring. He whirled in the chair to face his father, eyes flashing.

"Pops! You heard what the doctor said. Any deeper and she'd have lost a lung!"

"But she didn't," Pops reminded him. "So now you've got to pull yourself together. For Trixie."

At Pops words, Speed slumped down in the chair exhausted and disheartened. Inspector Detector pulled up a chair and sat beside him as he took note of the way Speed had buried his face in his hands, his anguish plain. He cleared his throat and spoke softly to the distraught young man.

"Speed," he began. "I have to talk to Miss Shimura, get a statement from her. Do you think she'd be up to it?"

"They said they're keeping her overnight for observation. We're waiting for them to let us know she's ready for visitors," Speed replied dully.

At that moment, a nurse came from the ER and approached the group. "I came to tell you that Miss Shimura is in her room and can receive visitors. I'm heading to the wing she's in now if you gentlemen would like to follow me." She headed down the hall.

All three men got up and followed until they came to the west wing of National Hospital. The nurse at the desk looked up. "Yes, may I help you?"

Pops replied, "Can you direct us to room 214?"

She indicated with her pen. "Down the hall, third door to your right. But you can only stay for a few minutes. She's just been sedated and needs her rest."

The trio headed down the hall and came to the door marked 214. Speed tentatively knocked on the door.

"Come in," Trixie called feebly.

Speed walked slowly to the side of her bed with a smile. "Hi, Trix, how ya doin'?" He took her hand and squeezed it affectionately, his eyes a soft blue.

"Anybody get the number of the truck?" she quipped. She shifted in the bed with some difficulty and peered past Speed and at her other visitors. "Pops, who's that with you?"

Inspector Detector came forward and removed his hat. "Miss Shimura, I'm Inspector Detector of Interpol working with the police department and I need to ask you some questions. Are you up to that?"

"Sure. If I pass out, just throw water on me. What's up?"

"I need some background information on you. Now, you have no family?"

"That's right. My father died about a month ago and my mother died when I was little," Trixie said softly, her eyes flickering slightly. Still holding her hand, Speed reached over with his other hand to gently caress her cheek, pushing her hair back. His tender ministrations were not lost on Pops or the inspector, who looked decidedly uncomfortable.

The inspector continued, "Miss Shimura, as I understand, you and your father own a charter air service. Is that true?"

"Yes, inspector it is."

"And you haven't hired yourself out to anybody since moving to the area?"

"Uh, no sir. We had just moved here and hadn't established ourselves when he got sick and then died."

"With all due respect, Inspector, why this line of questioning?" Speed inquired, curious.

The inspector glanced at him. "I'm trying to establish a motive for the attack. Balle mentioned in his confession that his employer had approached Miss Shimura about hiring her to fly for his company."

Speed's face twisted into a dark scowl. "What else did that lowlife say?"

Detector replied, "Nothing else much. That's why I need Miss Shimura to shed some light on the subject." He turned to Trixie. "Did Balle's employer contact you and who is he?"

Trixie nodded painfully. "Uh-huh. H-his name's Wiley. I met with him earlier today. He wanted me to fly as a part of his racing team."

The inspector nodded, understanding lighting in his eyes. "And you refused?"

"Yes, I did. H-he wanted me to do illegal things like change road signs. I told him no and our meeting ended."

"I see," Detector said thoughtfully. He stepped away from the bed but had one more question for her. "Was your meeting the first contact you had with Wiley?"

"Yes, aside from a couple of initial phone calls. He was quite persistent in getting me to agree to a meeting." Trixie replied, showing signs of growing fatigue.

Speed, ever alert to her weakened condition, leaned over the bed and asked, "Are you okay, honey?" as he gently, rhythmically stroked her hair back from her face.

Before she could answer, a nurse whose manner resembled that of a drill sergeant barged in and said in a commanding tone, "All right, everybody out! This young lady needs her rest. You can come back tomorrow." She began shepherding Inspector Detector and Pops out but Speed had for the moment eluded her.

"Thank you, Miss Shimura, I'll be in touch," the inspector called over his shoulder as he and Pops were hustled out.

"I better get going too before she realizes she forgot all about me and comes back. Good night Trix, get some rest." He leaned over and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. "I'll be up to see you tomorrow and I'll call you in the morning, okay?"

Trixie nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. "T-t-thank you for saving my life. Oh Speed, if you hadn't come when you when you did I-I-" She sobbed in fear, remembering the ordeal.

Speed put his finger lightly on her lips. "Shhh. Don't even think about it, baby. I won't let anyone ever hurt my girl." He gently ran his hand on her cheek as her eyes gazed at him gratefully through the tears. He grinned and began to sing the first stanza of "My Girl" softly.

The nurse chose this tender moment to burst in upon. "Okay, loverboy, serenade's over. Out. Now." She clamped a firm hand on Speed's shoulder and none-to-gently propelled him to the door. He shrugged and blew a kiss at Trixie as the nurse wrestled him out. She tittered at the picture of Speed being given the bums rush as she laid her head down at last drifted to much needed sleep.

Later, that night Speed was in his bed, trying to catch ever elusive sleep and was finding that he was failing miserably, tossing and turning restlessly, his mind full of the day's events. He sighed disgustedly as he gave up and reached for his robe to put on. He opened his door, crept quietly downstairs and made his way to the kitchen. Speed flipped the switch and the kitchen was lit with stark fluorescent light that made him blink, his eyes adjusting to the sudden illumination. He went to the cabinets and rooted around, not really knowing what he wanted. His search was interrupted by a soft swishing sound of her robe as Mom Racer joined him in the kitchen.

Speed turned around and addressed his mother. "Gee, I'm sorry, Mom. Did I wake you?"

Mom Racer smiled fondly at her son. "No, darling, you didn't wake me. I heard your door open and I had a feeling you were having a hard time sleeping."

"Mom radar, huh?" Speed asked with a sheepish grin.

"Speedy, I carried you in my body for nine months. Anytime you're hurting about something, I hurt. You'll realize that fact for yourself one day when you're a parent." She reached and caressed her son's face, brushing his coal black waves out of his eyes. "Pops told me about what happened to Trixie. I'm sorry, son."

Speed nodded woodenly, misery plain on his face. "She could've died, Mom. If I hadn't--"

"But you did, Speed and she's alive," his mother interjected. "Be thankful for that."

"I almost killed a man tonight, Mom. The guy who attacked Trixie, I almost killed him. And what's worse is that I wanted to, more than anything." Speed's broad shoulders were slumped, his head down as he felt the weight of the implication and his admission of it. Never in his life could he remember wanting to take a man's life. Mom reached out and took her son in a comforting embrace trying to ease the burden his young shoulders seemed to be bearing.

"How about some hot cocoa?" Mom said softly after a while.

Speed's eyes lit up like they used to when he was a little boy. "With marshmallows?"

Mom smiled indulgently. "Of course."

She retrieved the cocoa and marshmallows from the cabinet while Speed got the milk out of the refrigerator and poured enough for two in a saucepan. He handed the pan to Mom and she set it on the stove to heat as she reached the above cabinet for two mugs. Speed leaned on the counter and watched while the milk frothed as it got hot and his mother mixed in the cocoa, blending it to perfection as only Mom could do. She poured the steaming cocoa into the two mugs then dropped the marshmallows in. She handed one mug to Speed and they went to the kitchen table to sit and sip contemplatively.

After a while of silent enjoyment of the cocoa, Speed spoke. "Mom, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, honey. What's on your mind?"

Speed took a deep breath. "Mom, how did you know Pops was the One?"

Mom Racer's eyes, the exact same pure cobalt blue as Speed's sparkled in fond remembrance. "I guess the first sign for me was that the world seemed to be painted in brighter colors. My heart would pound when I knew I was going to see him, and when I saw him, I was utterly enthralled. His voice became like music to me and I'd think about him constantly. And today, nearly 30 years later, he still makes me feel the same way."

Speed grinned lovingly at his mother. "That's so groovy, Mom." His eyes became softer as his grin faded to a faraway smile. "That's exactly how I feel about Trixie. I know I've only known her for a grand total of 3 days but if I live to be a hundred I don't think I'll ever meet anyone else that makes me feel like she does."

Mom gazed at her son. "She must be truly wonderful. Your father was certainly impressed when he met her."

"Oh Mom she is! She's not like the bubble brained race groupies who hang out before and after races. She's smart and independent, gutsy, and so pretty. I think about her all the time and I want to be with her when I'm not racing," Speed answered with a dreamy expression on his face, his cocoa forgotten.

Mom smiled knowingly. "Seems to me that you're quite smitten, Speed."

Speed looked at his mother in surprise. "I guess it's pretty obvious," he admitted, shrugging bashfully.

Mom nodded, "I'm looking forward to meeting the girl who's captured your heart." "Yeah." Speed's expression became clouded. "She needs to mend now after what happened. But especially after what happened I really have a bad feeling about her going back to her place when she gets out of the hospital." He sat there frowning thoughtfully staring into his now cold cup of cocoa.

Mom looked intently at her middle child. "We do have a guest room, you know," she suggested softly.

Speed's eyes brightened. "You mean it, Mom? Trixie can stay here? I wanted to ask but I was afraid that you and Pops would have a problem with my girlfriend staying here."

"I think we can trust you to being the upstanding young man we know you to be. Just leave Pops to me. I think that he'll see that we raised you to have respect for our home and high moral standards, regardless of your age." She looked at the starburst clock on the kitchen wall. "We'd better head up to try to get some sleep. Tomorrow's a big day," Mom Racer said briskly as she and Speed rose and put their cups in the sink. He followed her out of the kitchen and turned out the light.

They quietly made their way to the stairs to head up and Speed tapped his mother's shoulder.

"Mom?"

"What?"

"Thank you." Speed embraced his mother in a bear hug of gratitude.

Mom Racer returned her son's hug. "You are very welcome, my love. Now let's go to bed."


	7. Part 7 FEARS & A REVELATION

Part 7-FEARS & A REVELATION  
The next day was a hazy, unsettled typical midsummer day, ion-rich with a feeling of upcoming thunderstorms. The mid-morning was partly sunny and warm but sticky and uncomfortable. Speed pulled up to the clean front façade of National Hospital, grabbed a bouquet of white roses, and got out to enter the glass door of the building. He felt the instant refreshing relief of air conditioning as he approached the reception area.  
  
"Excuse me, but I'm here to pick up Trixie Shimura. Has she been discharged yet?" Speed asked politely.  
  
"Just a moment, sir and I'll check," the receptionist replied. She rifled through an index file and came up with a card. "Ah yes, here it is. Yes, she's been discharged and should be down shortly. Would you care to have a seat in the waiting room here, and she'll be right with you."  
  
"Thank you, ma'am." Speed went over to a sofa and sat down to wait.  
  
He took a look about the hospital lobby area and thought idly about how antiseptic everything appeared, even the flower arrangements. He hated hospitals and the way they tried to hide the reality of daily life and death struggles that took place within their portals with a veneer of scrubbed sterility.  
  
Speed sighed as he remembered talking to Trixie over an hour ago. She told him that she was getting discharged and he told her he would come and pick her up. She had sounded better, more animated but also a bit subdued, as if she were afraid of something and not telling him. After he had left last night, she had called him and asked him to bring a change of clothes to her, her outfit she had on when she was brought in being blood spattered and useless. He had felt a bit awkward going into her bedroom and gathering her personal belongings but he put those feelings aside for beside him, she had nobody who could take care of these things. He had brought Trixie's things back last night and had hoped he could see her one more time but it had been after visiting hours so the night supervisor took the small bag from him and much to his chagrin, pushed him out. He had been disappointed but then realized that she needed her rest so he accepted the fact and went home.  
  
Speed was still deep in thought when he felt a light tap on his knee. He looked down curiously and saw a small boy, eyes as bright as buttons grinning up at him.  
  
"Hey mister, are you Speed Racer? My brother said you were." He pointed to a youth of about 13 standing on the opposite side of the room, blushing and trying not to stare. Speed smiled back, "That's me."  
  
"And that car out front's the real Mach 5?"  
  
"Uh-huh." Speed answered.  
  
"Can I have an autograph?" the boy pleaded. His brother came over and tried to pull him away.  
  
"C'mon, Danny, we shouldn't bother him."  
  
Speed pulled out his pen with a smile. "He didn't bother me. You guys have some paper?" When they shook their heads, Speed signed his name on the front of their t-shirts.  
  
Both boys were dazzled. "Gee, thanks, Speed. You're the best!" They stood there their faces agog with the attention of the local celebrity.  
  
Speed chuckled as the elevator doors slid open and a nurse pushing a wheelchair bearing Trixie came forward. Making his excuses to the boys he shot to his feet and came over.  
  
"Hi Trix, how ya feeling, huh?" he asked as he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.  
  
Trixie managed a weak smile. "Okay, a bit stiff but I'll be fine. Thanks for missing practice and coming to get me. I hope Pops isn't too mad."  
  
"Are you kidding? He insisted that I come. He was really worried about you," Speed assured her. He handed her the bouquet of roses. "Here, these are for you."  
  
"Oh Speed, you didn't have to," she said, breathing deeply of the soft fragrance.  
  
"I promised to bring you some more, remember?" She nodded gazing gratefully at him. He smiled and added, "You ready to go?" At Trixie's nod, she attempted to rise up out of the wheelchair but Speed placed his hand on her shoulder, detaining her. "Oh no, you stay put. I'll wheel you out to the car." He began to push her toward the door and out into the hot humid air.  
  
"Wow, it's a real scorcher," Trixie remarked as Speed pushed her to the passenger side of the Mach 5. He pushed the levers locking the wheels and gently helped her into the car.  
  
"Yeah, but I'll fire up the air conditioning and we'll keep cool."  
  
He made sure she was comfortable, brought the wheelchair back to the hospital lobby, and then made his way to the driver's side. He climbed in behind the wheel and pushed the Control D button. There was a hum and then the cockpit instantly became enclosed. Speed started the motor, pushed another button on the dashboard and the cool air vented in, immediately making the atmosphere more comfortable. He shifted gears and pulled out and away from the hospital.  
  
Conversation was stilted between them due mostly to Trixie's side still being tender and her being in a weakened state. Speed was careful not to drive too fast or to say anything that might make her twitch or pull on her stitches. She had a baker's dozen of them on her side and she needed to recuperate a few days while she mended before she had the stitches out in a week.  
  
Speed pulled into the cul-de-sac and drove to the end where the Racer home stood. He turned the Mach 5 into the driveway and cut the motor.  
  
"Well, here we are, home sweet home," he said cheerfully as he pressed Control D and the dome detracted.  
  
Trixie glanced about with a quizzical expression on her pretty face. "Speed, this isn't my home."  
  
"I know. It's mine." He grinned engagingly at her as he vaulted over the side before she could say anything. He strode over to her side and opened the door, offering his hand to assist her out. "We all thought that it'd be better for you to be here in our guest room and not alone while you're recuperating."  
  
"We?"  
  
"Yeah. Mom, Pops, and me." Speed slipped his arm around her. "You don't have anyone to take care of you so we will."  
  
"Oh Speed, I don't want to be a bother. You and me barely know each other," Trixie protested weakly but he was undaunted.  
  
"Trix, we're not strangers. And you said so yourself, I saved your life. So, in doing such, I'm obligated to see to it that you're good as new. You wouldn't want me to feel like I can't finish what I start, do you?" Speed coaxed as he propelled her to the front door.  
  
"Of course not, but--"  
  
Speed laid his finger on her lips. "No arguments then. You're staying with us and we aren't taking no for an answer. They climbed the three stairs to the door. Speed opened the door and taking Trixie's elbow, guided her into his house. He set her in an easy chair and said, "You just relax here and I'll go get Mom. She's really anxious to meet you." He grinned at her then turned and disappeared down the hall and into the kitchen.  
  
Trixie glanced about at her surroundings. The room was homey and comfortable in Danish Modern décor with a large fireplace and a 21" color TV console in the corner. On the mantle there were several family photos with a large trophy bearing the name "Dragon Racer - Champion Wrestler" on it. Trixie got up wincing slightly to take a closer look at the photos, her curiosity piqued. She smiled when she saw a photo of an obviously much younger Speed with a handsome, mahogany haired boy of about 18 in front of a red racing car with a 4 on the door. Trixie couldn't help grinning at the younger Speed who was staring up at his brother, naked adoration shining in his cornflower blue eyes.  
  
The sound of footsteps approaching made Trixie turn and meet Speed and his mother, who stepped up to her with a warm, welcoming smile, identical to Speed's.  
  
"Trix, this is my mom."  
  
She reached out her hand. "Trixie, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. How are you feeling?"  
  
Trixie returned the smile. "Okay, I guess. A little tired, but I'll be fine." She lowered her head and added shyly, "Speed told me that you want me to stay here while I get better. I appreciate it but I really don't want to be a bother."  
  
"Nonsense!" Mom Racer interjected. "You need to have someone to take care of you till you're better. So you'll stay here. We've a very comfortable guest room."  
  
"But I haven't any clothes with me," Trixie protested feebly but she was fighting a losing battle.  
  
"Yes you do." Speed said. "Last night, when I went to get your things I took the liberty of taking your house key and I gave it to Mom while I went to get you this morning. She packed a suitcase for you with clothes and anything else you may need."  
  
Trixie sighed resignedly. "So I guess I have no choice." She turned to Mom who had begun to look dismayed at her protests and she smiled sweetly, "Thanks ever so much, Mrs. Racer. I'd be pleased to stay here with you and your family. That is, if I won't be too much trouble."  
  
"Of course not, dear," Mom said, relieved. Her eyes, the same color as Speed's twinkled.  
  
"Outtasight!" Speed crowed. He took Trixie's hand and began to pull her along. "C'mon, I'll show you the guest room," but his mother laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Speed, why don't you let me get Trixie settled. I'm sure she'd like to get some rest and something to eat. Besides, don't you have to practice? I know that your father gave you the morning off but if I know him, he'll expect you out there this afternoon," his mother reminded him.  
  
"It isn't afternoon yet," Speed pointed out but Mom was firm.  
  
"No, but your lunch is on the table and you need to eat before practice," she said softly but firmly.  
  
Speed sighed in annoyance and shrugged at Trixie. "I guess I'll see you later then. Take care, Trix." He leaned and kissed her on the cheek then turned and headed to the kitchen.  
  
Mom Racer smiled at Trixie, "I hope you don't mind but he really needs to eat before he goes out to the track."  
  
Trixie hid her disappointment with a tired smile. "Not at all," she lied.  
  
Mom took her arm and led Trixie down another hall to a room that had French doors. She opened the doors and Trixie found herself in an airy room, surrounded by windows on three sides. A full sized bed with a bright aqua spread and three pillows in different shades of green was the main attraction of the room, against the right side of windows. An air conditioner was fitted in one of the windows facing the doors. She noticed her suitcase on the floor against the foot of the bed, unopened. A dresser with a mirror hanging above it completed the room.  
  
"I hope you'll be comfortable in here," Mom said as she turned the air conditioner on. "Two of the windows over your bed open if you prefer fresh air but I figured with today's heat, you'd like the air on." Trixie nodded, "Everything looks just fine, thank you."  
  
"I hope you didn't mind that I went to your house to get you some things. I figured that Speed wouldn't have a clue about what a girl needs."  
  
"Oh, no, I'm glad you did, Mrs. Racer," Trixie hastened to reassure her.  
  
Mom smiled, satisfied. "Please call me Mom, everyone does. If you'd like to get some rest, just go ahead. Are you hungry?"  
  
"A little maybe. But don't go to any trouble."  
  
"Don't be silly. I have to feed the boys, fixing a tray for you will be absolutely no problem whatsoever." Mom Racer went to the door and disappeared toward the kitchen.  
  
Trixie got her suitcase and pulled it on the bed gingerly, to favor her side. She began to unpack, noticing that Mom had chosen well for her, in spite of the fact that she hadn't even met her until just now. She was really glad that Speed's mother had gone to gather her belongings, she was right, he probably wouldn't have had a clue. Trixie giggled, as she thought about poor Speed, in her room, trying to figure out what kind of things a girl might need.  
  
"What's so funny?" a rich tenor asked teasingly from the door. Speed stood there, holding a tray of food grinning.  
  
Alarmed, Trixie blushed and stammered, "N-nothing. I was just unpacking."  
  
Speed came in and set the tray on the nightstand. He sat beside her and gently brushed the hair out of her eyes. "You okay with all this? I mean, by your reaction before I kind of realized that I've sort of taken charge over you and that may be kind of pushy."  
  
Trixie patted his hand reassuringly. "No Speed, it's okay. You're right, now with Daddy gone I don't have anybody to take care of me and it would've been hard to get well on my own." She gazed at him, her eyes shimmering like stars.  
  
Speed's eyes also sparkled as he studied her, his mind spinning with the very nearness of her. He ran his hand down her cheek and took her chin in his hand to draw her lips closer to his. As they were about to meet, their mouths a fraction of an inch apart, a chimp and a young imp with brown coveralls came bursting into the guestroom.  
  
"Hi Trixie!" Spritle Racer said with all the exuberance a seven-year-old could muster. His primate sidekick sat beside him and squealed a greeting as well.  
  
Trixie chuckled, "Hi, Spritle."  
  
Speed became irritated, his plan to spend a few minutes alone with his girlfriend falling into the category of lost cause. "Squirt, you have like the worst timing!" he growled in frustration.  
  
Spritle pouted, "I just wanted to say hi to Trixie. Wow!" he said as he saw the bruise on Trixie's cheek. "Who hit you, Trixie?"  
  
"Spritle, that's none of your business," Mom admonished from the doorway as she too came in.  
  
Speed groaned inwardly, the guestroom was rapidly becoming Grand Central Station. His mother turned to him, "Honey, it's almost 1 o'clock. You'd better get going, the weather report just said strong thunderstorms for later and you know how your father is about practice." She grasped her youngest son's arm. "Spritle, you need to finish lunch, we have a dentist appointment at 2." She pulled the protesting youngster out of the room with Chim Chim following, chattering energetically.  
  
Speed shrugged apologetically at Trixie. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I guess I'd better split too. He kissed her gently. "You eat and get some rest and I'll see you later." He got up and went to leave turning and blowing a kiss at her while she waved at his departing form, already missing him.  
  
The thunderstorms promised by the radio all day finally arrived after dinner, heralded all afternoon with dark scudding angry clouds, lowering and making the air thick and ominous. Trixie had begged off dinner, her weakness overtaking her to the point that she wasn't hungry, she just wanted to nap. The medication the doctor had prescribed for her injuries also led to her lethargy so she stayed quietly in her guestroom the entire evening. Speed wanted to see her the minute he arrived home from practice but his mother restrained him, telling him that she wasn't feeling well and for him to leave her alone and eat his dinner. But fretting about Trixie he ate sparingly, his attention on the hallway leading to the guestroom.  
  
The sky finally erupted in zigzagged bolts of lightning, sending torrents of rain down in accompaniment to the roar of thunder, and causing the Racer house to shake with the force. The lights flickered with each flash, causing the family to cast an uneasy eye to the sky occasionally, as they hurriedly finished their dinner. They were finished with the meal when a pink-white flash cracked just outside the kitchen window and before the subsequent deafening clap of thunder sounded the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness. Pops reached under the sink for candles, flashlights and a battery-powered lantern.  
  
Speed leaped to his feet. "I'm gonna check on Trixie." "Wait son, take this." Pops handed him the lantern. Speed nodded and headed toward the guestroom.  
  
In the guestroom, Trixie was deep in slumber and dreaming.  
  
She was lying in her bed, the cool smoothness of the sheet against her flushed body, diffusing the heat as she lay there thinking of Speed. Suddenly, her window slid open and the cruel leering face of Slyme Balle sneered at her sadistically as he climbed in her room. He grinned evilly as he informed her that he had returned to finish their 'fun'. Trixie screamed and tried to scoot away but Slyme was too quick and he grabbed her using his superior strength while he tossed her on the bed. With horrified fascination she watched as he yanked her nightgown off her shoulders and exposed her breasts as he chortled in triumph, leaning down to place his loathsome lips where she had allowed no man to go before.  
  
NOOOO!  
  
"NOOOO!" Trixie screamed as she sat bolt upright in the bed into the pitch darkness of the storm. The door burst open and Speed rushed in with the lantern, splitting the darkness by providing some light other than the frequent flashes of lightning at the windows from the storm. He placed the lantern on the nightstand and sat by her on the bed, taking her quaking form in his arms.  
  
"Trixie, shhhh. It's okay, it's okay, baby. Shhhh, relax, it's all right."  
  
Trixie looked at him with huge petrified eyes. "S-Speed? Is that you?"  
  
Speed held her tighter. "Yeah, baby, it's me. We just had a blackout from the storm, is that what scared you?"  
  
Clinging hard to Speed, Trixie glanced around and noticed the lightning and occasional thunder that raged outside. She blinked her eyes to acclimate herself to the low light.  
  
"How long has it been storming?"  
  
"Just about an hour. We just lost power and I was coming back to check on you. Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.  
  
"I-I think so," Trixie said, still shaken by the eerie atmosphere of the storm and the residual fear from the nightmare.  
  
"You're still trembling," Speed said gently as he cradled her head to his shoulder.  
  
He rhythmically began stroking her hair back in a calming soothing way and gradually she began to feel better, the warmth of his body taking away the chill of fear. His strong, steady, heartbeat was also helping to lull her, constant like a metronome. She felt like a puppy, needing the ticking of an alarm clock to soothe her troubled being.  
  
"Feeling better now?" Speed whispered as his ministrations continued unabated.  
  
"Hmmm," Trixie answered as she relished Speed's strength compassing her.  
  
"Good enough to tell me about what you dreamed to scare you so much?"  
  
Trixie took a deep uneasy breath. "I-I dreamed that I was home, in my bed and that guy came back."  
  
Speed's eyes narrowed as he thought about Balle. "Yeah?"  
  
Trixie drew back from his shoulder to look into his eyes. "He said he wanted to finish our "fun".  
  
"What the hell does that mean?" Speed was getting incensed.  
  
"Before you came in, he had threatened me by intimating that he was going to have 'fun' with me," she replied.  
  
"What kind of 'fun'?" Speed wanted to know, suspicious, his rage building inside.  
  
"What do you think?" Trixie said bitterly.  
  
Speed scowled darkly. "That dirty son-of-a bitch. If I ever see him again I swear I'll kill him." His eyes became stormy pools, fury flashing like the lightning outside.  
  
Trixie took a deep ragged breath. "Just hold me, Speed." She buried her head in his shoulder.  
  
"Don't worry, Trixie, I'll never let anyone hurt you. I'll always protect you," Speed spoke fiercely into her hair and tightening his embrace, more determined than anything now. There's no way you'll ever be alone again! He vowed silently as he continued to caress the shivering girl.  
  
The next few days were days that Trixie found herself initiated and firmly entrenched into the Racer family daily routine. Mom Racer fussed over her constantly, practically waiting on her hand and foot, and refusing her offers of help, insisting that she rest. Spritle and the ever present Chim Chim were constantly spending time with her, asking her to play games and asking her all about flying. Pops was politely solicitous, asking if there was anything he could do and Speed was sweetly attentive, by her side continuously from the minute he came home from the track. He would tell her all about his performance on the track, preparing for the practice race in Raytona, and one day he brought out the Racer family album to show her all the pictures of him and Rex. At night, after Spritle (who would also hang around with Speed and Trixie every chance he could, much to Speed's chagrin) had gone to bed, Speed would take Trixie out to the swing on the patio where their mutual passions were expressed in relative privacy. Pops and Mom kept an eye on the two young people to make sure that things between them did not advance to the point of being dangerous but their growing closeness was undeniable.  
  
It was the fourth day of Trixie's convalescence, a sunny Saturday, and the Racers were barbecuing, to take advantage of the stellar weather. Pops, in a magnanimous gesture had cancelled practice on the track, to spend some time with his neglected wife and family much to Speed's delight for that meant he could spend all day with Trixie. He had wanted to take her on a private picnic at a meadow he knew not far from Lake Icy Chill, but his plans were shot down by Pops who insisted that the family stay together. So Speed and Trixie played Spritle and Chim Chim doubles badminton while Pops tended the barbecue and Mom set the picnic table. It was this tranquil, suburban scene that Inspector Detector walked in upon.  
  
"Hello, folks. Hope I'm not disturbing your Saturday." The inspector looked apologetic as he looked at the activities in progress. He removed his hat in awkward respect.  
  
"Not at all, Inspector. Would you like to join us? There's plenty," Mom Racer invited, the very soul of cordial grace.  
  
"Another time perhaps Mrs. Racer," he begged off politely. He addressed Pops. "Can I talk to Speed and Trixie a moment? I promise it won't take long."  
  
Pops indicated with his spatula. "They're over playing badminton. Kids!" he bellowed, getting the attention of the four badminton players.  
  
"Yeah Pops?" Speed called.  
  
"The inspector's here to talk to you."  
  
Speed took Trixie's racket and with his tossed them in a box on the side of the net. He came back to her and took her hand as she looked at him quizzically.  
  
"I wonder what he wants, Speed," she commented uneasily.  
  
"Dunno, but there's one way to find out. C'mon." He led her over to the patio where the suit clad officer awaited. Spritle and Chim Chim glanced over curiously.  
  
"Hi Inspector," Speed greeted him.  
  
Detector nodded and addressed Trixie, "How are you feeling, Trixie?"  
  
She managed a somewhat wan smile, "Better. I get the stitches out on Tuesday. So what's up?"  
  
"I'd like to speak to the two of you alone if I may."  
  
"Sure, Inspector," Speed assured him. "We can go out front." He grasped Trixie's elbow and the trio began to head out front. Spritle and Chim Chim scampered over and made to follow but Pops detained them by grabbing the youngest Racer by his arm.  
  
"And where do you think you're going?"  
  
Spritle whined, "C'mon Pops, I wanna see what the inspector wants with Speedy." Chim Chim grunted and nodded.  
  
"That's out. He came to talk privately with your brother and Trixie and the two of you are staying right here. Besides it's almost time to eat," Pops admonished firmly. Spritle began complaining.  
  
At the boy's protest, Mom stepped in. "Your father is right. It's Speed's business, not yours." She shepherded the small Racer to the picnic table, his faithful monkey companion right on his heels. Disgruntled, Spritle sat at the table with his chin in his hands, pouting.  
  
Out in front of the Racer home, Speed and Trixie took a seat on the concrete steps of the front stoop as Inspector Detector stood before them, a grim expression on his face. Both were wondering what the severity of the visit was all about.  
  
He studied Trixie carefully, "Trixie, I need some more information from you about your father's business. I did a bit of checking and I know that Shim- Air Enterprises at one time was quite an outfit."  
  
"Shim-Air Enterprises?" Speed asked incredulously, gazing at Trixie. "That was your father's business?" At Trixie's nod he let a low whistle. "No wonder you know so much about racing. Shim-Air's the best air support for racing teams in the business."  
  
The inspector nodded, "A two million dollar a year business at one time. Your father used to pilot for some of the top racing teams in Formula 1. Transporting drivers and crews and spotting for road rallies. Isn't that right?"  
  
"Yes," Trixie said softly, avoiding the inspector's eyes. Speed gazed at her in puzzlement.  
  
"Are you familiar with Wiley's business?" Detector probed.  
  
"How could I? I never even heard of him before he started calling me."  
  
"Among other things, he's the owner of the Alpha Racing Team. He did ask you to fly for him."  
  
"Y-yes, he did. But I refused when he told me what he wanted me to do." Speed was perplexed and a bit outraged by the inspector's questions. "Inspector, why this line of questioning? What exactly are you trying to imply?" he demanded but Detector ignored him.  
  
"Trixie," the inspector said quietly. "Were you aware that your father was doing business with Wiley?"  
  
Trixie's head shot up. "My father was an honest man!" she exclaimed indignantly.  
  
"I never meant that he wasn't. I just wondered if you knew."  
  
Trixie became defensive. "Of course I didn't know! My father wouldn't mix himself up with a character like that or do anything against the law. He drilled into me the importance of obeying the rules always since I was old enough to understand."  
  
"Perhaps he didn't tell you because of that. You mentioned that you were having financial difficulties. Were those difficulties there when you and your father moved here."  
  
Trixie sighed deeply. She answered in a low voice. "We had been having- problems-before we moved out here. He told me we were going to make a new start. Then he got sick and we spent all our time and most of our money getting him treatments at National Hospital. Then he died and the funeral expenses were enough to nearly leave me penniless. I have a few thousand left in the bank, the planes, the airfield and my convertible." She glanced at Speed then hung her head in shame. "I owe a lot of money to the hospital for my father's treatments."  
  
Detector nodded again. "It makes sense. Wiley's a wealthy man and he needs your services so he made an offer that you refused. And you found out the hard way that he's a man who hates being refused. Wiley informed me he had entered into an agreement with your father to fly for the Alpha Team prior to his death."  
  
"So you're saying he asked my father to do the same things he asked me to do and my father agreed." Trixie said in a small tight voice.  
  
"That's what Wiley said."  
  
Trixie shook her head blankly as if she didn't or couldn't fathom the fact. Now everything makes sense she said to herself how Wiley knew about my father's medical bills. Her eyes stung with hot tears at the revelation.  
  
"No, no, no," she barely whispered in misery.  
  
Trying to offer comfort, Speed reached and brushed a stray chestnut curl from her tear-filled eyes. "Everything will work out, Trix. Don't worry." He looped his arm around her slumped shoulders and hugged her tight but she did notice.  
  
Detector cleared his throat and continued, "Trixie, do you know if your father has any papers or contracts that may show his involvement if any? We'll need 'em for evidence."  
  
Trixie looked up bleakly and Speed was alarmed by the dead tone of her voice, like one whose world just came crashing down on her. "I'll go and look at home and I'll call you if I find anything."  
  
"Good. I'll be in touch. Good-bye," the inspector said as he turned abruptly and headed for his car.  
  
Speed got to his feet to watch the car pull away then offered his hand to help Trixie to get up. But she seemed totally unaware and was numbly motionless, staring off into space, her mind on what had been said. Speed found himself at a loss, her stunned attitude was scaring him.  
  
"Trix?" he said uncertainly. "You okay?"  
  
Trixie glanced up and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She just shook her head blankly as if she wanted to blot everything out. Then in a strangely calm and flat voice she said, "Please take me home, Speed."  
  
"What? You can't stay out there all by yourself. You're still weak," Speed insisted but she didn't care.  
  
"Take me home, Speed. Now." Trixie got woodenly to her feet and with steely resolve she addressed him. "I'll be packed in 15 minutes." She climbed up the stoop and opened the front door.  
  
"But you haven't eaten yet."  
  
Trixie turned and pinned him with her eyes. "Take me home, Speed or I'll go inside and call a cab. Either way I'm going home. Now."  
  
Speed gave up. "Okay, okay, you win! Go pack and I'll wait for you in the Mach 5," he grudgingly agreed. Sighing, he strode over and climbed behind the wheel of his car to wait. 


	8. Part 8 A BETTER OFFER

Part 8-A BETTER OFFER  
  
The short ride to Trixie's was a silent one, with Trixie just staring blankly ahead, sitting stiffly in the passenger seat of the Mach 5. Speed didn't venture to converse with her, feeling her distress and not knowing what to do or say to offer relief. He pulled into the driveway of the airfield and up to the cottage.  
  
"Thank you for the ride," Trixie said coolly as she turned to leave but Speed gently took hold of her left wrist to detain her.  
  
"Trix," he said softly, compassion radiating from his cobalt blue orbs. "You can talk to me about this if you want. I'm here for you, honey and I always will be."  
  
Trixie lowered her head, avoiding looking at him. "I know you are and I appreciate it but I need to do something to prove that Wiley's a liar. 'Cause I know he is, I just know it!" she said fiercely.  
  
"Let me help you," Speed offered eagerly but she just shook her head.  
  
"Thanks, but I have to do this for myself. I have to prove that my father is innocent. Or everything he taught me since I could walk, everything I've built my life on was a farce." She got out of the car and closed the door to lean in. "Please thank your folks for being so good to me and let them know how sorry I am that I left so abruptly." She reached in and took her bag then turned and made her way to the door.  
  
Speed watched her, his heart constricting painfully for the new burden Trixie was forced to carry. He was frustrated by his feelings of helplessness, wanting more than anything to help take that bleak dead look from her lovely face and put back the luster in her sea green eyes. But she was shutting him out, and he knew that she was determined to find something, anything, that would restore her shattered faith in her father. He sympathized completely with her because he felt the same way about his older brother Rex, who had been his hero forever. Sighing, he turned the key, shifted gears and backed out to head home.  
  
Later, Speed was sitting in the swing on the patio, alone and brooding. He had refused any food when he returned from Trixie's, in spite of his mother's gentle prodding and made it clear to Spritle to leave him alone. He was totally despondent, ignoring any attempt by his family to snap him out of it, his mind on Trixie and her broken heart.  
  
The sun had begun to set and Speed was still sitting on the patio swing and staring out at nothing when he was joined by Pops.  
  
"Speed, son, your mother and I are getting worried about you. First, Trixie lets us know she's leaving all of a sudden and without an explanation. Then you come back from dropping her off and you close yourself away from us. Now what's going on? Did you and Trixie have a fight?"  
  
Speed shook his head. "No, Pops we didn't."  
  
Pops persisted, "Then what happened, son? Why was she so upset that she had to leave?"  
  
"Inspector Detector dropped a bomb on her and she just wanted to split."  
  
"What kind of a bomb?"  
  
Speed sighed, "Pops, do you remember Shim-Air Enterprises?"  
  
"Sure I do. Mike Shimura was one of the best transport pilots on the circuit. At one time, his services were constantly in demand. Why do you ask?"  
  
Speed leaned forward. "Because that's Trixie's father's business."  
  
Pops' face lit with recognition. "Aha, I knew I'd seen her before."  
  
Speed looked puzzled. "What do you mean, Pops?"  
  
Pops recounted, "I knew Mike Shimura and his reputation in the business for a long time. Not only did he provide track support and transport to various Formula 1 teams, he was a top sponsor, investing millions. I remember now that he was a widower, and had a little girl, his daughter, who was always with him. So Mike's gone huh? I knew I hadn't heard much about him recently. Rumor had it that he'd fallen on hard times."  
  
Speed nodded, "Detector said to Trixie that Wiley, the guy who wanted her to fly for him was the owner of the Alpha Racing Team. This creep Wiley who sent that scum to work Trixie over apparently had a contract with her father before he bought the farm."  
  
"And Trixie never knew?"  
  
"Apparently not," Speed replied. "He met with her and wanted her to fly for him and sabotage the other drivers. She refused, that's why he had his stooge come and beat her up." He rose to his feet and stared sullenly out at the thickening dusk. "You should've seen her face when Detector lowered the boom. Man, Pops it was like she had died inside, she looked like she was falling to pieces. And I felt helpless, Pops, like I couldn't do or say anything," he finished miserably. "She wouldn't say anything to me when I drove her and when I brought her home, she said she wanted to clear her father's name by herself."  
  
Pops went to clasp his middle son's shoulder. "I know, son. But she knows you're there if she needs you."  
  
"But I want to help her, Pops more than anything," Speed insisted stubbornly.  
  
"Son, let me tell you something about women. When they are determined to do something, forget about talking them out of it. And if Trixie feels the need to do this alone, all you can do is stand by in case she needs you."  
  
Speed looked forlornly at his father and Pops was shocked by the reminder of how young he really was. For all his talent and ability behind the wheel, Speed was still after all an eighteen year-old boy, barely over the threshold of manhood. And it appeared he was truly in love for the first time.  
  
Pops led Speed over to the swing where they sat quietly for several minutes, each lost in his own reverie. All of a sudden, Pops perked up and turned to his son with an epiphany, his dark eyes bright in spite of the early evening darkness.  
  
"Speed, Trixie needs to make some money, doesn't she?"  
  
Speed looked up. "Yeah, she said she's got huge hospital bills to pay from her father."  
  
Pops studied Speed intently. "And she hasn't decided what to do yet."  
  
"Nope. I really don't know what if anything she's gonna do." Speed examined his father closely. "Pops what are you getting at?"  
  
"Son, I've been thinking. After Raytona, comes the Grand Prix, kicking off the Formula 1 season."  
  
"Yeah? So?"  
  
"We've yet to find a spotter for those races. And because they're mostly road races, we'll need someone who can fly," Pops said contemplatively.  
  
Speed's eyes lit up with understanding and then he grinned widely. "I get it, Pops. You want Trixie to fly her planes and be our spotter during the races, right?"  
  
Pops nodded, "Right."  
  
Speed jumped to his feet, excited. "I'm gonna go call her and tell her." He started to head in the house but Pops detained him.  
  
"Hold up, Speed. I gotta make some arrangements and get some papers drawn up by my attorney to make everything legal. After that, we'll offer her the contract to be the pilot for the Go Team." Pops informed him. "But don't tell her yet till everything's set up."  
  
Monday afternoon, Trixie was busy unpacking and discarding cartons and boxes that had remained untouched since she and her father had moved in and he became sick. She had been putting it off, but felt the need to finally get herself settled. Plus, she had promised Inspector Detector that she'd try to find proof that what Wiley had said about her father was a lie perpetrated by his own guilt. It had become an obsession with her to clear her father's name and memory and she was relentless in her determination to do it.  
  
She hadn't heard from Speed since he dropped her off home Saturday, which disturbed her and made her a bit paranoid about their budding relationship. He was practicing at the track next door, because through her window, she could hear the roar of the Mach 5 as it made its laps. She thought about calling the track and leaving a message for him but decided against it. She felt that as soon as she could piece together some solid proof in her father's favor, she would resume her relationship with Speed. But for the moment, finding evidence to prove Wiley wrong about her father was her priority.  
  
Trixie pushed a stray chestnut curl back from her eyes and under the bandana kerchief she was wearing and pulled another carton up to where she knelt. She opened it up and began removing items, dusting them with a rag, and placing them on the end table as she rooted through the box. As she got to the bottom of the carton, she was about to give up when her hand came against an unfamiliar manila portfolio, the kind most people kept important papers in. Curious, she pulled the elastic off and opened the folder, finding some papers she had never seen before. She rifled carefully through what appeared to be some legal documents, insurance papers and what appeared to be an agreement of sorts that had a name that caught her eye-Wiley. She read it with all the morbid curiosity of one looking at a highway wreck, her insides twisting with foreboding. As she read the proof, her heart dropped like an anvil off a skyscraper.  
  
"Oh Daddy, how could you?" Trixie cried as she crumpled on the floor, totally disillusioned.  
  
She must have been on the floor for hours for when she awoke, the late afternoon sun was turning the room orange with the dying day's light. In a daze she pushed herself to a sitting position and picked up the document that had been the brick that shattered her world. She idly glanced at it again through a vision made blurry with tears, being drawn again to the words when a knock on her door brought her back. Wiping the warm rivulets from her eyes, Trixie got to her feet and walked to the door. A shiver of fear from the remembrance of the last time she had opened her door skittered down her spine but she quashed it. She cracked the door and peered warily out.  
  
"Y-yes?"  
  
A warm pair of the bluest eyes smiled at her under a wavy shock of hair the color of coal and a soft tenor voice greeted her. "Hi Trix, how ya doing, baby?"  
  
At those words, all the pain of the afternoon's upsetting discovery came out like a flood. "Oh Speed!" Trixie cried as she threw open the door and launched herself in his arms sobbing.  
  
"Hey, Trix it's okay, it's okay," Speed said soothingly as he held her. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Oh Speed," she said brokenly. She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked over his shoulder. She became embarrassed when she realized Speed wasn't alone, Pops was there looking extremely uncomfortable. "Oh Pops I'm sorry, I didn't know you were out here."  
  
Pops answered, turning red, "That's okay, Trixie. Can we come in?"  
  
Now it was Trixie's turn to turn red. "O-of course. Please." She stepped back and let the two Racer men in. "Please excuse the mess, I've been trying to unpack and get settled. It's the first time I've been able to since Da-my father died."  
  
Speed and Pops went over to the sheet covered sofa. Trixie managed a polite smile. "Can I get you both anything. A cold drink?" She began to head toward the kitchen but both declined so she took a seat in an easy chair across from them and looked at them inquiringly.  
  
Pops began, "The reason for the visit, Trixie is that we have a business proposition for you."  
  
Trixie's eyes widened. "A business proposition?"  
  
Pops nodded, "The Formula 1 season is about to start in a month and we are finishing putting our team together. We need a pilot as a spotter for the races and since you're quite an accomplished pilot, I'd like to hire you to be the pilot for the Go Team."  
  
Trixie stared at Pops intently. "You want me to be the pilot for the Go Team? What would I have to do?"  
  
Speed replied, "You'd be my spotter. You'd fly above the courses and keep in touch with me via radio as to what road conditions are ahead, if the weather looks threatening, or how close or far I am from the lead car. And if I'm the leader, which I intend to be in every race if I have anything to say, how close the other cars are to me. So what do you say?"  
  
Trixie took a deep breath, then got to her feet and walked to the door gazing out thoughtfully. Speed and Pops exchanged glances then Speed got up and walked over to where Trixie stood.  
  
"Trixie?" he asked softly, tapping her shoulder.  
  
She turned around and eyed him. "Why me?" she wanted to know.  
  
Speed was put off by her somewhat remote manner. "Because you have a reputation as an excellent pilot. Your father's--" he started to say but was cut off.  
  
"Don't you ever, ever mention that man to me again!" Trixie hissed vehemently. She whirled from Speed's presence and leaned against a table taking deep breaths.  
  
Speed was absolutely stunned by her reaction. "Trixie, what's going on?"  
  
She looked up at him, her eyes again brimming with tears. She bent down and picked up the document she had before he and Pops came. "There, read it," she commanded, tossing the paper at him as if it burned her hand.  
  
Speed took the document and skimmed through it. As he read the names, it dawned on him as to why she had been so upset when he and Pops came. He reached over to grasp her shoulders.  
  
"I'm sorry, Trix," Speed said softly, his heart breaking for her. She shook her head and shrugged his hands away, turning her back to him, shoulders slumped.  
  
"So again, why would you want me?" Trixie said in a small hard voice.  
  
Speed was at a loss. He didn't know how to answer her because it seemed she was filled with self-recrimination and shame from her father's action. Curious, Pops rose from the couch and took the paper from his son's hand. He perused it and then stepped up to Trixie. Like Speed, he gently took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him.  
  
"Trixie," Pops began, taking her hand. "Come sit with me, honey. I have something to say to you." She numbly followed him back to the sofa and sat down. "Listen to me. I knew your father very, very well. He was one of the best pilots on the circuit and one of the best spotters. And he was an honest, hard-working man who would never, ever do anything to break the law or cheat. They weren't empty platitudes to him Trixie, he lived by them."  
  
"B-but you read that contract, Pops. If that were true, then why would he enter into an unholy alliance with someone like Wiley?" Trixie asked miserably.  
  
Speed came over and knelt beside her, quietly taking her hand and squeezing it, letting her know he was there. She glanced at him, grateful for the gesture and squeezed back.  
  
Pops continued gently, "Because, honey, a man will do desperate things when his livelihood and his ability to provide for his family begins to slip away from him. And the business he built from nothing was failing."  
  
"But why didn't he tell me? We could've sold my car, I would've quit that expensive boarding school, I would've helped him anyway I could!" Trixie said, tears flowing in earnest.  
  
Pops sighed, "Trixie, men are also proud, stubborn fools who feel that their worth in the eyes of their family is measured in how they provide. And sometimes, the hardest journey for a man is when he has to come home and tell them that he lost everything. He doesn't realize that they love him, no matter what."  
  
Trixie sat silently digesting what Pops was saying. "I did love him, Pops. With all my heart," she murmured.  
  
Pops smiled, "And I know he loved you. He was always talking about his little girl. You were his light, I could see it when he'd talk about you, he'd glow."  
  
Trixie smiled through her tears. Impulsively, she reached and hugged Pops tightly. "Thank you, Pops for telling me that."  
  
Pops returned the embrace and responded, "You're welcome, honey. I didn't want to see you lose the love you had for your father and I didn't want your memories of him to be destroyed. I speak as a father."  
  
Trixie pulled away from Pops and gazed at Speed, who continued kneeling quietly on the floor still holding her hand, his blue eyes gazing intently at her, glowing affectionately. "I hope your sons realize what a very special father they have," she said.  
  
"Don't canonize me yet. I've made my mistakes too and if you have any doubts, ask my wife. I drove my oldest son away from his home and if you ask my middle son, he'll tell you I can be quite hard on him. I believe the word I've heard used to describe me is 'slavedriver." Speed opened his mouth to protest but Pops continued, "Point is, we all make mistakes but the love of our families is what keeps us plugging along and gives us the main reason to go on." He studied her closely. "So, what do you think about our offer?"  
  
Trixie took a deep breath. "You really mean it? Even after what you found out about my father?"  
  
Pops held up a hand. "You're the one I want working with us. If I know Mike, and the kind of pilot he was, he taught you well."  
  
"But he--" she began but Pops cut her off.  
  
"Trixie, your father is dead. And you are not him. So what do you say?"  
  
"Trixie, will you do it? Will you join the Go Team?" Speed asked, his eyes hopeful.  
  
Trixie glanced from one Racer to the other. The same hope radiated from the black eyes as from the blue and made her feel warm and wanted. She smiled shyly at the two waiting men.  
  
"Yes, I will."  
  
Speed jumped to his feet and pulled her up in a delighted hug. "Groovy!" he crowed.  
  
Pops rose as well. "Welcome aboard," he said heartily as he took her from his son's energetic response and shook her hand. "I've got the papers at my office and if you come to the garage tomorrow, you can sign them and we can talk about the details. We'll need to show you the road courses for the races and talk finances."  
  
Trixie nodded, not really paying attention. She was held suspended in time by the cobalt eyes that caressed her as Speed slipped his arm around her waist. 


	9. Part 9 EPILOGUE

Part 9-EPILOGUE  
  
It was another sparkling cloudless summer day and the Mach 5 was roaring around the Pops Motors test track, as usual, looking as if it could take flight. Pops and Sparky were watching Speed maneuver the car, cornering with perfect grip at top speed, but while observing Speed's progress, Pops was busy talking into a set of headphones.  
  
"Okay, Trix, how'd that last lap look?" he spoke into the mouthpiece.  
  
"Pretty good, Pops. He's handling the banking and the turns really well."  
  
"Let him know his progress," Pops directed then headed into the garage.  
  
Speed was rounding Turn Three when his radio came to life with a sweet, slightly husky voice. "Looking good down there, Speed. Camber's good and your time's getting better with each lap."  
  
Speed grinned as he picked up his mike. "Thanks, Trix. How about taking a break?"  
  
"Sounds good to me."  
  
"Groovy. I'll see you when you land."  
  
"Roger."  
  
He pulled the Mach 5 up to the starting line, cut the motor, shed his helmet, and leaped out to join his mechanic and his father. Sparky held the clipboard over so Speed could see the lap times and they were discussing track conditions when the whirring sound of a landing helicopter on the apron of the straightaway drew their attention. Speed couldn't help but grin as he saw two shapely legs emerge from the side of the chopper as Trixie exited the craft and made her way over. She walked up to Speed, who put his arm around her.  
  
"How were the lap times?" she asked Sparky.  
  
"Here, see for yourself." He handed the clipboard over to Trixie. "Best times yet."  
  
"What else," she said grinning proudly at Speed. He blushed slightly, pleased enough to burst. Sparky made a faux gag as Speed threw a punch at him and Trixie tittered.  
  
Pops strode up to the trio of jovial young adults. He addressed Trixie as he brought out a folded bundle of fabric. "Trixie, here's something for you."  
  
Puzzled, she glanced at Speed but he shrugged so she shook open the bundle. With a delighted cry she noted the two tank tops, t-shirts, and vests with matching slacks all with "G" embroidered in floss on the upper left of the front of each garment.  
  
"Oh Pops, these are groovy! Thanks so much!" She reached over to the Racer patriarch and kissed him on his leathery cheek, bring a blush to the big man.  
  
"I hope the size is right. I asked Mom to help me since she knows more about women's sizes and all," Pops said beaming. "Now you're officially a member of the Go Team!"  
  
Trixie was overwhelmed. She looked at Speed but was taken back at his frown and doubtful expression. Perplexed, she inquired, "Speed, what's wrong?"  
  
He shook his head, "Nope, you're not an official member of the team. Not yet."  
  
Trixie's eyes clouded. "What?"  
  
Pops looked strangely at his son. "What do you mean 'not yet'? She signed the contracts yesterday." He was getting annoyed but Sparky caught a very subtle, playful glint in his best friend's eyes that over rode his otherwise serious expression and nudged Pops. Pops then caught on and he and Sparky discreetly headed for the garage.  
  
Trixie was totally in the dark and in a slightly hurt tone she asked, "What else do I have to do?"  
  
Speed studied her in an earnest manner. "You haven't been initiated," he informed her matter-of-factly.  
  
"Initiated?" she echoed.  
  
"Uh-huh. Before you can be part of the Go Team, you gotta be initiated."  
  
Trixie took a deep breath. "What do I have to do to be initiated?"  
  
"Oh, just this," Speed said as he gently cupped her face in his hands and drew her mouth to his in a long lingering kiss. Sparky and Pops watched with approval from the garage.  
END 


End file.
